The end was near, and Germany’s admirable
restraint and discipline were breaking down everywhere. The people were mutinous
– deeply upset by false promises and years of privation. The army was damaged
beyond repair and demoralised, barring a few pockets of stout resistance.
Ludendorff briefly acted as the scapegoat for all the anger, but increasingly
came the clamour for the abdication of the Kaiser – the man who had led his
country into this terrible war. Scheidemann, leader of the social democrats in
the Reichstag was openly calling for the Kaiser to go, and his demand was taken
up across the country.
As for the Navy? On 4th November,
widespread mutiny broke out in the German navy. Orders had been sent for the
High Seas Fleet to break out for a final despairing battle, but the officers and men had become so
demotivated by their years of inaction since Jutland that they refused to obey
orders. A red flag of revolution was flown on the battleship Kaiser (appropriately), and within hours
mutiny had spread to Hamburg, Bremen and Lubeck. Political delegates rushed
from Berlin to the ports, caving in to their demands and, effectively, sealing
the end for the German monarchy. Other politicians travelled with Chancellor
von Baden to Spa to consider President Wilson’s latest missive. This brought
news that the Allies were prepared to seek peace on the basis of Wilson’s Fourteen Points, but only with two important provisos – namely that they would retain their autonomy
regarding ‘liberty of the seas’; and they clarified their draconian expectation
of ‘restorations for war damage’. Germany had little choice but to face a
ruinous peace offer (much as she had imposed on the Russians at Brest-Litovsk)
and find a team of negotiators that would prove acceptable to the Allies for an
armistice process.
For the Allied plenipotentiaries, Wilson
announced, military supremo Foch would represent the armies, and Sir Rosslyn
Wemyss, the British First Sea Lord, would represent the navies. The Germans
fielded four low key players as their plenipotentiaries – two politicians,
Erzberger and Count Oberndorff, and two military staff officer Generals, von
Gundell and von Winterfeld. On the afternoon of 6th November, these
four men and their staff set out from Berlin by rail, heading for the French
lines to the north east of Paris. Von Baden issued an appeal (to little effect) to the German people for restraint while this delicate mission was under way.
The German generals and their senior
officers were urged to put up the strongest possible resistance while the
armistice negotiations were alive. Foch and his commanders had their tails up –
as did all the men on the Allied side – and sensed they could finish off the
enemy before an official armistice. For the British it seemed that destiny
awaited some of the Divisions that fought in the opening Battle of Mons in
1914. Few of those original old contemptibles survived, but it was a matter of
Divisional and Regimental pride to retake the ground that marked the beginning
of the Great Retreat in 1914. By 8th November the northern flank was
past Conde, opening up the route to Mons. The Belgians and Plumer’s 2nd
Army were beyond Ghent and heading for Brussels. Further south, the Americans
and French were closing in on Metz, having taken the three key targets of Hirson,
Mezieres and Sedan.
Foch now prepared a plan to push the
American 1st and French 10th armies into German territory
between the rivers Meuse and Moselle on 14th November. In the
feverish atmosphere of accelerating gains, all men knew the end was coming, and
there was an eagerness to get as far as possible before any ceasefire (although
feelings must have been mixed with the realisation that they were close to
surviving the killings). For example, the 8th Division of Horne’s
Army, having spent the previous year in the Ypres salient; the March retreat
and the third Battle of the Aisne, was now straining to reach Mons in time: “… one of its battalions, the 2nd
Middlesex, travelled for seven hours in buses, and then marched twenty seven
miles, pushing the enemy before them. They wanted to reach the spot in Mons
where some of them (then in the 4th Middlesex) fired almost the
first British shots in the war….” (J. Buchan The Great War. Vol IV p411).
The jubilant scenes of people in the
liberated towns and cities of France and Belgium contrasted with the sullen and
angry mood across Germany. The minor royal figures across the land provided
convenient local focus for political dissent. Nowhere was the threat of
revolution more present than in the capital. By 9th November Berlin
was in the hands of a workmen and soldiers’ council. Monarchy was dead, and
its leading symbol - the Hohenzollern monarch - had to fall.
Scheidemann announcing the birth of the Weimar Republic from the Reichstag, 9 November 1918 |
On Saturday 9th November, the
Chancellor von Baden issued a decree announcing a socialist government (to
become the Weimar Republic) headed by five politicians from the two main
parties. Alongside this, Kaiser Wilhelm announced his intention to abdicate and
that his son, the Crown Prince, had relinquished his right to succession. The
following day the two of them crossed the border into neutral Holland and took
refuge in a country house at Amerongen, east of Utrecht. And so, another great
dynasty - the Hohenzollerns – moved out from power and influence, like the
Russian Romanovs one year earlier, and the Habsburgs one week earlier.
The German armistice delegation, which had
departed Berlin on 6th, arrived late in the evening of 7th
to the French front line near Choisy au Bac. On the morning of the 8th they presented themselves to Foch and Wemyss at the now famous railway carriage
in the Compiegne forest. Foch asked them what it was they wanted. Nonplussed,
they responded with a wish to discuss armistice terms. Foch told them,
brusquely, there would be no ‘discussion’ of terms. If they wished an
armistice, then ‘take it or leave it’ terms that he now handed them would
apply. If they refused, the Allies were committed to finishing the war with no
armistice. Shocked by the approach -and
the severity of the terms – the Germans asked for time to consult with Berlin,
and a provisional ceasefire. Foch refused the latter, and gave them a maximum
of 72 hours (i.e. until 11am on 11th November) to agree to the
armistice terms. A courier was dispatched to make the complex journey to Spa
(no fax or email available). It took him until the morning of 10th
to get there. The panicked military leadership phoned through to Berlin, where the new
Government debated the terms immediately. They saw no choice but to accede.
Their decision was passed rapidly to the delegation at Compiegne, and at 5am on
11th the armistice was signed. Foch immediately sent the historic order to all his generals:
“Hostilities
will cease on the whole front as from 11th November at eleven
o’clock. The Allied troops will not, until a further order, go beyond the line
reached on that date and at that hour”.
The largest and worst conflict in history was
over.
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