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Authors: David Fromkin
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galloped from the obscurity of the Byzantine frontier onto the center stage of history.
At the outset of the war, he hastened to attack the Russian Empire. 1 There was an obstacle in his path: the forbidding Caucasus mountain range, which formed the land frontier between the two empires. Against the advice of Liman von Sanders, he determined to launch a frontal attack across that daunting natural frontier, which the Russians, in secure possession of the high ground, had heavily fortified—and to do so in the depths of winter. He proposed initially to group his forces along an enormous territory within Turkey, 600 miles long and 300 miles wide, through which there was no railroad to transport troops or supplies. The few roads were steep and narrow. The rivers could be crossed only by fording, the bridges having collapsed long before and having never been repaired. Because the nearest railhead was over 600 miles away, every bullet, every shell, had to be transported by camel—a journey of six weeks. Much of the territory was without track or habitation, unexplored and uncharted. Long winters and mountain snowstorms made whole sections of it unpassable much of the year.
Enver’s plan, as he explained it to Liman von Sanders, was to then move out of this staging area, cross the frontier into Czarist territory, and attack the fortified Russian position on the Caucasus plateau by the sort of orchestrated movement pictured in military textbooks, with some columns attacking directly, and others moving out at an angle and then wheeling about to flank or encircle. He was unmoved by the reminder that, without railroads or other transport, the strategic mobility required for the military movements that he envisaged would be unavailable. He entertained no doubts of his success. Having crushed the Russians, said Enver, he would then march via Afghanistan to the conquest of India.
On 6 December 1914, Enver left Constantinople and on 21 December took command of the Ottoman Third Army. He led the attack on the Caucasus plateau in person. The Russians were terrified and appealed to Britain to help somehow; they had no idea they faced a foe who was utterly inept.
Enver left his artillery behind because of the deep snow. His troops were forced to bivouac in the bitter cold (as low as minus thirty degrees Fahrenheit without tents). They ran short of food. An epidemic of typhus broke out. With routes blocked by the winter snows, they lost their way in the tangled mountain passes. Enver’s plan was for his forces to launch a coordinated surprise attack on the Russian base called Sarikamish, which blocked the invasion highway; but, having lost touch with one another, the various Turkish corps arrived at different times at Sarikamish to attack and to be destroyed piecemeal.
The remnants of what had once been an army straggled back into eastern Turkey in January 1915. Of the perhaps 100,000 men who took part in the attack, 2 86 percent were lost. A German officer attached to the Ottoman General Staff described what happened to the Third Army by saying that it had “suffered a disaster which for rapidity and completeness is without parallel in military history.” 3
Yet even as he rode back from the catastrophe in the northeast, Enver ordered another ill-conceived offensive. In command was Djemal Pasha, the Minister of the Marine. Jealous of Enver, whose prestige and power had begun to overshadow those of the other Young Turks, Djemal took the field as commander of the Ottoman Fourth Army, based in Syria and Palestine. On 15 January 1915, he began his march toward Egypt to launch a surprise attack across the Suez Canal.
Again, the logistical problems were ignored. The roads of Syria and Palestine were so bad that not even horse-drawn carts could move along many of them; 4 and the wastes of the 130-mile wide Sinai desert were trackless. The Ottoman soldiery nonetheless performed prodigies of endurance and valor. Somehow they transported
At the outset of the war, he hastened to attack the Russian Empire. 1 There was an obstacle in his path: the forbidding Caucasus mountain range, which formed the land frontier between the two empires. Against the advice of Liman von Sanders, he determined to launch a frontal attack across that daunting natural frontier, which the Russians, in secure possession of the high ground, had heavily fortified—and to do so in the depths of winter. He proposed initially to group his forces along an enormous territory within Turkey, 600 miles long and 300 miles wide, through which there was no railroad to transport troops or supplies. The few roads were steep and narrow. The rivers could be crossed only by fording, the bridges having collapsed long before and having never been repaired. Because the nearest railhead was over 600 miles away, every bullet, every shell, had to be transported by camel—a journey of six weeks. Much of the territory was without track or habitation, unexplored and uncharted. Long winters and mountain snowstorms made whole sections of it unpassable much of the year.
Enver’s plan, as he explained it to Liman von Sanders, was to then move out of this staging area, cross the frontier into Czarist territory, and attack the fortified Russian position on the Caucasus plateau by the sort of orchestrated movement pictured in military textbooks, with some columns attacking directly, and others moving out at an angle and then wheeling about to flank or encircle. He was unmoved by the reminder that, without railroads or other transport, the strategic mobility required for the military movements that he envisaged would be unavailable. He entertained no doubts of his success. Having crushed the Russians, said Enver, he would then march via Afghanistan to the conquest of India.
On 6 December 1914, Enver left Constantinople and on 21 December took command of the Ottoman Third Army. He led the attack on the Caucasus plateau in person. The Russians were terrified and appealed to Britain to help somehow; they had no idea they faced a foe who was utterly inept.
Enver left his artillery behind because of the deep snow. His troops were forced to bivouac in the bitter cold (as low as minus thirty degrees Fahrenheit without tents). They ran short of food. An epidemic of typhus broke out. With routes blocked by the winter snows, they lost their way in the tangled mountain passes. Enver’s plan was for his forces to launch a coordinated surprise attack on the Russian base called Sarikamish, which blocked the invasion highway; but, having lost touch with one another, the various Turkish corps arrived at different times at Sarikamish to attack and to be destroyed piecemeal.
The remnants of what had once been an army straggled back into eastern Turkey in January 1915. Of the perhaps 100,000 men who took part in the attack, 2 86 percent were lost. A German officer attached to the Ottoman General Staff described what happened to the Third Army by saying that it had “suffered a disaster which for rapidity and completeness is without parallel in military history.” 3
Yet even as he rode back from the catastrophe in the northeast, Enver ordered another ill-conceived offensive. In command was Djemal Pasha, the Minister of the Marine. Jealous of Enver, whose prestige and power had begun to overshadow those of the other Young Turks, Djemal took the field as commander of the Ottoman Fourth Army, based in Syria and Palestine. On 15 January 1915, he began his march toward Egypt to launch a surprise attack across the Suez Canal.
Again, the logistical problems were ignored. The roads of Syria and Palestine were so bad that not even horse-drawn carts could move along many of them; 4 and the wastes of the 130-mile wide Sinai desert were trackless. The Ottoman soldiery nonetheless performed prodigies of endurance and valor. Somehow they transported
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