In the spring of 1911, La Gazette de l’Armée published, in four pieces, an article on the subject of war games of the type played at that time in the armies of the German Empire. The following text results from an attempt to render the third part of the essay in language that conveys the colloquial, somewhat snarky tone of the original. With that in mind, I beg the indulgence of readers who speak varieties of English current in times, countries, and services other than mine own.
The Kriegspiel
In the first two parts of this article we described the Kriegspiel in a light-hearted way that, nonetheless, rang true. We noted that observers often get the impression that the player in command of the forces on the map is doing a bit of a rug dance, especially if the exercise serves as a thinly disguised inspection.
Before the start of the game, the designated commander writes down considerations, sketches courses of action, and outlines the orders he plans to give. When, however, the game begins, he discovers that his preparations have been in vain. It turns out that he has asked too much of the troops, the routes he has chosen prove impractical, and the movements he planned take place outside of the area chosen by the game director.
In haste, the player places his pieces on the board.
‘Your force is not ready to march. You are too far ahead,’ cries the director. The player measures, spreads out his pieces, and moves them to the rear. Then the turns, each of which stands for an hour of real time, begin.
The orderly officer informs us that the forces on the map are moving too fast or too slow.1
The commander deploys mute units that say nothing. He tries to take the positions from which the terrible god of this world makes masses of foemen emerge.
Hours pass. Intermissions get longer. Pretentious nonsense abounds. The player who commands the troops on the maps contemplates what the critics will say, and how he will reply.
In the meantime, the other players try to influence the director’s orderly officers and look forward to signs of the end of the exercise.
We also said that the Kriegspiel, like German Gymnasia, ought to be reserved for an elite.2
We thought about what sometimes happens in winter, in certain companies. It rains. We stay indoors. The privates clean their gear and recite their general orders. The non-commissioned officers and lance-corporals gather in front of a large (1:10,000) scale map. The lieutenant improvises a Kriegspiel.
One could find a more useful exercise for the sergeants and corporals of a company. In any event, in order to play upon a map, one must be able to read it rapidly, and that is a skill that takes ages to learn. Moreover, the players examine nothing but principles and the movement of units of little concern to them. This is not the business of the little one, the young foals who need time to grow.3
If we devote space to what Kriegspiel should not be, we will exceed the bounds of the piece that the Army Gazette has allowed us to write. Thus, we ask that you consult the officers who give up a Thursday afternoon of relative relaxation in order to observe, unnoticed, a garrison Kriegspiel. Let us not, however, fall prey to the bad habit, which afflicts all levels of the hierarchy, to criticize and tear down. Neither grumbling nor griping counts as useful work. Instead, we prefer to offer the reader some positive observations.
Kit
It would be good to have a map made especially for playing Kriegspiel exercises. The 1:10,000 map made for the use of staff officers. It suffers from clutter. The writing takes up too much space. The space between the lines of the hatching that indicates elevation is too wide.
Some would like to get a 1:10,000 map of the areas surrounding their garrisons, thereby allowing units to follow problems played out on a map with field exercises.
This, however, is not essential. While field work begins where map work ends, the the ideas stirred up by a good Kriegspiel can be applied almost anywhere.
The map sheets for Commercy and Metz allow us to cross the border [into the part of Lorraine incorporated into Germany in 1871].
The important thing here is to avoid slavish dependence upon standard military maps. Thus, we could base an exercise on events that took place in recent wars. We might also make greater use of large-scale sketches, whether in charcoal or colored pencil.
The Players
The Kriegspiel meets the needs of generals and field-grade officers. As they command formations and larger units, they need to practice working together, thereby imbuing themselves with a common understanding that fosters cooperation among the different arms. They need practice in seeing the big picture, devising concepts of maneuver, setting goals, ignoring details, and leaving the choice of means to their subordinates. They need to make important decisions quickly, thereby promoting harmony among the three arms. Map problems prepare them for all of these things.
The number of players should be kept as small as possible. The best results take place when the game resembles two-person calisthenics, with one player on each side and a director. In any case, there is no advantage in grouping more than five or six players around a Kriegspiel table.
The Director
He gives his heart and soul to this game, and he fosters interest as he instructs. His task, however, is so difficult that one can serve for thirty years without playing a game directed by a master. The more difficult an, the greater the time needed to master it. Even then, moreover, talent plays a role.
With that in mind, we should appoint Kriegspiel directors for fairly long periods of time, one or more years. Ideally, they should be general officers, to whom falls the honor of preaching doctrine and fostering common understanding with their officers.
A Kriegspiel director does not waste time. In teaching, he learns. Indeed, in a well-run exercise, it is the director who learns the most. Indeed, in order to develop concepts and foster unity of doctrine, masters of the art of directing Kriegspiel should, from time to time, work with a member of the Supreme War Council [Conseil Supérieur de la Guerre].4
To be continued …
Source: Anonymous: ‘le Jeu de la Guerre’ la Gazette de l'Armée (4 May 1911)
For Further Reading:
Like an Ordonnanz Offizier of one of the armies of the contemporary German Empire, an orderly officer [officier d’ordonnance] of the French Army of 1911 was a junior officer who delivered orders. In Kriegspiel exercises played by US Marines of today, the ‘non-player character’ who fulfills this role is often called ‘the runner’.
Expensive, exclusive, and academically demanding, German Gymnasia of the early twentieth century prepared students ‘for positions of expert leadership in the civil service or in the professions.’ For a thorough discussion, see Peter Sandiford (editor) Comparative Education (London: JM Dent, 1918) page 142
The corporals and sergeants of the French infantry of 1911 tended to be conscripts (or men who had enlisted before being called up for national service) who had earned their stripes by means of examination. Thus, they were no older, and, in some cases, might even have been a bit younger, than the privates in the squads and sections that they led.
In the spring of 1911, the Conseil Supérieur de la Guerre consisted of the war minister, the vice-president (who would take command of French forces in the field in the event of a major European war), the chief-of-staff of the Army, and several other general officers.
It seems the author is intent on reshaping the concept and practice of a kriegspiel to fit the limitations of the French Army instead of using it to improve training and professionalism. And complaining about the state of French maps.