Subscribe now for full access and no adverts
REVIEW BY JONATHAN EATON
The Eastern Front: a history of the First World War is the second instalment in Nick Lloyd’s trilogy exploring the experiences and history of the conflict through an intensive focus on individual combat theatres. Lloyd is Professor of Modern Warfare at King’s College London. The first book in the trilogy, The Western Front: a history of the First World War, was published to critical acclaim in 2021, including being recognised as a Sunday Times Book of the Year. The final book of the trilogy will explore experiences of the First World War in Africa and the Middle East.
It is widely recognised that British perceptions of the First World War have been profoundly shaped by the experience of the Western Front, often prompted by family history and subsequent powerful representations in popular media (for example War Horse and Blackadder Goes Forth). In this sense, British recollections of the First World War are intrinsically linked to the horrors of trench warfare, with combat lines remaining fairly static over long periods of time, and a terrible toll taken on the soldiers who remained in fixed defensive positions with little respite from physical or mental stress. This imagery is further reinforced by the use of the poppy as the primary symbol for remembrance, growing from the mud of the Western Front.
The events and experiences of the Eastern Front during the First World War are therefore far less well known to the general public than those of the Western Front, with which they may claim some personal connection. In particular, an overt focus on the Western Front limits our understanding of the wider implications of the conflict, particularly in the political and socio-economic changes that it fostered across large geographical areas. The experience of warfare on the Eastern Front was distinct from its counterpart in the West. The sheer size of the area of engagement precluded any reliance on static trench-based warfare. Rather, the Eastern Front enabled the dynamic movements of large armies over huge geographic regions, often aided by railways. Relative freedom of movement in engaging the enemy ensured that cavalry manoeuvres remained a feature on the Eastern Front. Military innovation was catalysed by the circumstances of warfare in the East, including the use of chemical warfare and infiltration tactics.
Perhaps the most significant symptom of difference between the Western and Eastern Fronts was the role played by major political changes on the latter – in particular, that both the Tsarist regime in Russia and the Austro-Hungarian Empire would ultimately collapse, having lost around 3.5 million soldiers in the conflict. This sense of political and social fragmentation is further reflected in atrocities inflicted on civilian populations, including Jewish communities, alongside the fighting. In many ways, there is a sense that the violent events on the Eastern Front foreshadowed much of the violence and suffering that would continue to haunt the same lands for decades to come.
Further complexity on the Eastern Front was created by the sheer geographic and ethnic diversity of some combatant armies. The Austro-Hungarian army, as an example, drew on officer and soldier recruits possessing a range of languages and backgrounds. The extent to which particular nationalities were feared to be potentially disloyal to the regime was destabilising for command coherence. To overcome communication challenges, the army categorised ‘command’, ‘service’, and ‘regimental’ languages. The former two categories of language provided a set of shared words and phrases to be understood by all, with the third category reflecting the origins of the soldiers themselves. While this approach made theoretical sense within a broadly static army, over time high casualty levels would sever the links between officers and soldiers, significantly reducing the ability or inclination of officers to learn the language of their soldiers, further reducing the effectiveness of communication within the army.
Key commanders
Lloyd’s focus throughout remains on the key commanders who made the strategic and operational decisions that drove their individual spheres of command through the conflict, with a particular emphasis on understanding the specific political contexts in which they operated and the pressures under which they were placed. This approach leads to some extraordinary pen portraits of individual leaders, revealing about both their individual strengths and their weaknesses. As an example, Lloyd depicts the German Kaiser ‘left to grumble to his courtiers in moments of quiet frustration’ due to his own personal dislike of Hindenburg and Ludendorff, to whom he was fully beholden for any hope of military victory. King Peter I of Serbia visited besieged Serbian lines to raise military morale. Lacking a particularly impressive personal demeanour or military bearing, he toured the beleaguered Serbian positions, telling his demoralised men that he chose to stay among them as his children. This physical demonstration of courage, bravery, and steadfastness in the face of failing health and a seemingly hopeless tactical position had an extraordinary impact on the Serbian troops who, roused to new heights of enthusiasm by the royal presence, successfully counter-attacked.
Beloved by his men, Field Marshal August von Mackensen led the invasion of Serbia and the occupation of Romania, ultimately emerging as one of the highly decorated commanders of the First World War. Yet in an extraordinary autobiographical account, Mackensen recalls his inner torment at seeing so many young infantrymen march past him confidently on the way to the front, leaving him to wonder how many of the pairs of eyes that met his own would shortly be closed forever on the battlefield. General Alexei Evert commanded the Russian Tenth and Fourth Armies before being transferred to the Western Front. As the pressures of command mounted, he was notorious for his inability to communicate meaningfully with his subordinates, in one instance accidentally replacing the word ‘army’ with ‘mary’ within an official report to the consternation and confusion of his staff.
These extraordinary vignettes affirm the human impact of the First World War on individual commanders, and the toll that their decisions took on them. Perhaps none more so than the tragic fate of Tsar Nicholas, who felt compelled to take personal supreme command of Russian forces on the Eastern Front in September 1915. Clearly personally unsuited to taking senior military command, the Tsar’s advisors counselled him against it for political reasons – if the Tsar rather than one of his generals were to lead, there could be no scapegoat to save the regime from criticism if the military reverses continued. The Tsar recognised the bind he was in, claiming: ‘I may perish, but I will save Russia’. The instability of the Tsar’s position, which would ultimately lead to the downfall of him and his dynasty, was further exacerbated by the extraordinary activities of Rasputin at Court, and the mystical hold he was believed to have over the Royal Family, despite the best efforts of senior army officers to limit his impact. The Tsar disliked the political machinations of the Court and Duma, and made little secret of his preference for being at military headquarters. This preference may have further reduced his ability fully to understand and to intervene meaningfully and effectively within the escalating political crises of the end of his reign, with tragic personal consequences for the Tsar and his family.
Extraordinary achievement
The end of most fighting on the Eastern Front was ultimately concluded by Lenin and the Bolsheviks, as the demoralised and divided Red Army was driven back by German forces. The Treaty of Brest-Litovsk enabled Lenin to concentrate on securing his personal political power and emerging regime internally. Nevertheless, this came at huge cost. Russia relinquished almost 25% of her landmass under the Tsar, 33% of crops, and almost 75% of iron and coal resources. The economic cost of the treaty was such that Trotsky, serving as Lenin’s representative, refused to sign it and had to be replaced. Released from defending against the German onslaught, Lenin was free to turn his attentions to purging the remaining elements of the Tsarist regime and further consolidate his hold over Russia. In turn, this enabled German forces to concentrate (too late) on the Western Front.
The Eastern Front is an extraordinary achievement in illuminating a poorly understood theatre of the conflict. Despite the complexity of the topic, Lloyd’s narrative provides a comprehensive overview of the dynamic nature of the Eastern Front from the perspectives of all key protagonists. It provides deep insights into the personalities of individual commanders and political leaders, and the political tides which ultimately engulfed those nations fighting on the Eastern Front. The book is amply illustrated with useful maps and has a list of key individuals that enables unfamiliar readers to orient themselves appropriately with the narrative. As the second volume in Lloyd’s emerging trilogy, it is clear that his work on understanding the diverse geographic contexts and interrelationships of the First World War will shape our thinking on the conflict for decades to come. It should be read by all historians with an interest in the First World War and the deep roots of modern conflicts.
The Eastern Front: A history of the First World War Nick Lloyd Viking, hbk, 672pp (£30) ISBN 978-0241506851
