Scottish independence and Britain's Strategic Position.

Tuesday, 17 June 2014


The independence of Scotland could be a potentially serious diminution in the strategic position of the United Kingdom.


Firstly, there would be an independent nation sharing the island of Great Britain for the first time in over three centuries. Historically the French had close ties to Scotland and used Scotland as a distraction upon England.


Without going so far as to say that it will recur, I will simply limit myself to saying it can recur.


But the relative strengths of Scotland and England have grown to an enormous disparity since the Act of Union in 1707. At nearly ten times the population of Scotland, and more than ten times the GDP, England has little to fear from her northern neighbour.


What's more serious, however, is Scotland robbing England of her geographic advantages.


Currently the only nations that can circumvent England's control of Europe's coasts are Spain, Portugal, and France.


All other nations have to pass through the Straits of Gibraltar, the Straits of Dover, or through the Norwegian Sea.


If Scotland were to become independent, and, like Ireland, deny England the use of her facilities, this would tear a gaping hole in England's fortuitous position.


The northern European nations, most especially Russia and Germany, could escape into the Atlantic between Scotland and Norway whereas before they could not.


This would hugely complicate England's insular defences. Once the enemy is out into the open sea, where would he go? The answer, of course, is wherever he'd like. And it would extremely difficult to track him down.


Controlling narrow waterways is easy, hunting ships in the Atlantic is akin to finding needles in a haystack. If that haystack was 41 million square miles. And since all the oceans are connected, we're talking potentially 133 million square miles (presuming they won't sail in the Arctic for obvious reasons).


Obviously finding a ship in that vast of an area is impossible. The British would have to rely on their age old strategy of attempting to catch the enemy when he had to re-enter port. While this served Britain in good stead, as a general strategy it left much to be desired. For the Spanish and French were liable to slip through the cracks and land in Canada, in America, in Egypt, in Ireland, wherever the fuck they felt like.


Britain's control of Scotland made this impossible for Germany during the two world wars. The much more narrow waters between Scotland and Norway could be effectively patrolled and radar could pick up any activity. When the Bismarck made its sally, it was quickly found and hunted to extinction.


Scotland also provided England with superb bases for her fleets to control the North Sea, especially against Germany but also against Russia.


Rosyth on the Firth of Forth is an excellent harbour, but the real treasure is Scapa Flow. Without these, the farthest north a British fleet could dock would be the estuary of the Humber, or perhaps even as far south as the Medway.


While this would prevent the British from catching an enemy fleet, these harbours also were much less useful than Scapa.


Scapa Flow is virtually the most perfect anchorage on the planet. It has everything a navalist would need for a base. It has three narrow, easily controlled, exits leading in three different directions. One could go south, east, or west as necessary, without having to circumvent anything, and waste time thereby.


The harbour is relatively shallow, any sneak attack would not necessarily inflict total losses. The Germans scuttled their own fleet, but the British were able to drag them back up to the surface as they had not gone down that deep. The British could equally refloat their own ships if sunk in the harbour.


Another point in its favour is the fact that it's enormous. Scapa is over 120 miles square, it could dock the entire US Navy with room to spare. The entire Grand Fleet found comfortable lodgings there. This is doubly advantageous because any sudden attack would give the fleet plenty of room for evasive manoeuvres, unlike the narrow strait jackets of the Humber and the Medway.


The islands forming the harbour could easily be utilised to provide for aerodromes and drydocks to shield the fleet from aerial assault and to repair the ships if necessary.


Another superb attribute is that the islands are remote. They have a population of 21,000, which is puny. Security would be easily obtained. Unlike farther south where spies would find it easy to blend in, and where positions of the ships would be almost absurdly easy to discover.


Remoteness protects the fleet even more by vastly increasing the distance between the enemy and it. It is unlikely aircraft or ships making for Scapa would get anywhere near the anchorage before the fleet was aware. Since the distance would increase, the flying time of the enemy would also be much more limited than farther south.


For all of these reasons the British found Scapa to be a gift from God. In Portsmouth, in Chatham, in Hull, the harbours are narrow, chock full of civilian craft, and perilously close to Europe. German aircraft could cause havoc in them, and given the many civilian ships and the limited space, the ships' freedom of movement would be much restricted and their time under fire would be much increased.


Without Scapa the Germans may well have been able to sink the entire Royal Navy from the air. As it were, Scapa was too far away and too huge. The Germans based in Norway attempted to hit the fleet base but failed to cause any serious damage.


If the British were to be deprived of Scapa they might well face the prospect of having their fleet sunk by aircraft, especially if their air force were inferior to the enemy's, as the RAF was to the Germans in WWII.


The loss of Scapa could severely compromise the Home Islands. Not only would the enemies be able to enter the Atlantic, but Britain's own defences would be called into question. If a sudden French air attack sunk the fleet while it was swinging at its moorings in Portsmouth, what would there be to stop the French from landing in the Thames?


With a fleet snugly tucked away in Scapa, the risks of landings would be so great that it would be unlikely that the enemy would attempt them. Thus embodying Lord Torrington's "fleet-in-being" concept.


The map shows Scapa Flow, with the Scottish mainland to the south. The islands form a protective cocoon around the anchorage, with narrow channels allowing access and excess. Across these channels could be strung sonar booms and anti-submarine nets. On land could be based aeroplanes.

It should also be noted that the United States derives immense advantage from Britain's position, and its own influence in Europe would be diminished by the UK's loss of Scotland.

Russia and the Crimea. A not so brief history!

Monday, 16 June 2014

Apologies for the length of this one, but much talk has been made of the recent developments in eastern Europe, most particularly the acquisition of the Crimea by the Russian Federation. I thought it would be useful to examine the region's history and Russia's long-standing interest in the area.

It's interesting to note the history of the Crimea. And I'm not just saying this for idle fascination, but because it gives us an window through which to view Russian foreign policy and Russia's current requirements in regards to the peninsula.

So when taking a cursory glance at a map the most immediate and obvious fact one is struck with is naturally that the Crimea juts south from the Ukraine into the Black Sea.

It should be understood what this entails.

First off it ensures that the power controlling the sea has the advantage. Being connected to the rest of the Ukraine only by the very narrow Isthmus of Perekop, the Crimea is a distinct geographic entity that generally took a different historical path than the rest of the region north of the Black Sea.

It is well known that in antiquity the Sarmatians and Scythians, now known to be Iranic-speaking tribes related distantly to the Persians, inhabited the steppes of southern Russia. But they did not inhabit the Crimea, or at least not for long.

For the Greeks established colonies at Theodosia, Eupatoria, Panticapaeum (today's Kerch), and most importantly at Tauric Chersonesus (today's Sevastopol), which was built by Greek colonists from Heraclea Pontica, on the northwest coast of Anatolia, in the fifth century B.C., twenty-five hundred years ago.

Heraclea was itself founded by the city of Megara located in a plain on the Isthmus of Corinth between the mountains of Geraneia and Pateras, whose people also founded the much more famous city of Byzantium near the Bosphorus.

But what's particularly interesting is that the Greeks also established settlements at nearly all of the other current major ports on the northern shore of the Black Sea. At Tsemes Bay, where today the city of Novorossisk lies, was Bata. At the mouth of the Southern Bug where the great shipyard of Nikolaeyev now stands, was the city of Olbia. The mouth of the Don, where Catherine the Great built the port of Rostov, was already noted as advantageous and settled by Greeks from Miletus in the third century B.C., which they called Tanais. At Ochakov was the Greek colony of Borysthenes. At Odessa was the city of Tyras.

Of all these places, the most important was Chersonesus. This was partially because it was by far the most defensible, as it lay in the mountains of the southern Crimea. But apart from its ability to be easily defended by the Isthmus of Perekop and the Crimean Mountains in the south, it was in a perfect central position to command the maritime access of all the major rivers draining the steppes to the north.

Given their superior sea power the Greeks were able to retain control of the Crimea and many of these outlying harbours through the whole of antiquity. Even as late as the thirteenth century, nearly two-thousand years later, when the rest of the steppes had been continuously washed by the flood of Asiatic conquerors like the Huns, the Alans, the Pechenegs, the Avars, the Bulgars, the Magyars, the Slavs, and the Mongols, we find that Chersonesus was still a thriving port populated by Greeks and owing allegiance to the Byzantine Empire.

The Byzantines were at last supplanted, but not by Slavs and Tatars from the north as one might have expected. Instead they gave way to Italians from the city of Genoa. Sevastopol became Kalamita. What is now Balaclava was given the very Italian name of Cembalo, and the old Greek Theodosia became Caffa. The Genoese also established trading posts at Azov and Novorossisk.

Genoese rule finally came to an end following the rise of the Ottoman Empire during the fifteenth century. The Turks began a vigorous naval construction programme to challenge Italian and Spanish supremacy in the Mediterranean, but what many tend to overlook is the much less dramatic corollary of this effort, their establishment of total maritime supremacy over the Euxine.

The Turks extinguished the Italians and erected fortresses on the ruins of the Greeks who had pinpointed the strategic importance of the areas almost two-thousand years before. Chersonesus became Akyar. Theodosia became Kefe. Eupatoria became Gözleve. And on the mainland the Turks built fortresses to control the Southern Bug at Kinburn near the old Greek city of Olbia, Akkerman to control the Dniester near the ruins of Tyras, Özi on the remains of Borysthenes, and Azak near Tanais and the more recent Genoese settlement of La Tana. Lastly, the Turks constructed a fort on the Tsemes Bay named Soğucak.

From Akyar and its superb natural harbour the Turks were able to remain in constant communication with their base as the Greeks and Genoese had been able to do, and additionally from this harbour they were able to retain control of the mouths of every major river as well as the important Tsemes Bay.

Peter was the first of the Tsars to realise the significance of this fact, essentially that Russia was at the mercy of the Turks. In order to reach the outer world in full force and emerge as a Great Power, the Black Sea must be opened to Russian trade. The Tatars of the steppes fought long wars with the Russians, but time was on the side of the Muscovites who continuously pushed them south until their last stronghold was in the Crimea under the direct protection of the Turks. But here the Russians ran into problems.

Possessing no fleets, and no habours in which to shelter any fleets, the Russians found taking the Turkish forts at the river estuaries to be nigh impossible. With their backs to the sea, the Turks could remain in supply with Anatolia and the Balkans forever. And the Turkish fleet could remain close at hand issuing out from Akyar as required.

The Russians were not oblivious to the fact that the Turkish position was anchored on the Crimea. Unfortunately, initial Russian attempts to directly strike the heart by forcing Perekop and physically occupying the Crimea resulted in lamentable failure.

The primitive Russian communications frequently broke down, leaving crucial provisions in short supply. The distances to their bases were immense, and without control of the sea they were forced to use the narrow neck at Perekop which resulted in many Russians dying from famine and disease, such as during 1687 and 1689 under Prince Vassili Golitsyn, depressing defeats at the same time that Prince Eugene was driving the Turks out of Hungary and Francesco Morosini was capturing the Morea. In 1695 Peter himself laid siege to Azak for several months but was forced to call it off, having achieved nothing.

Peter next sought to rectify this situation by a costly, but successful, assault on the fortress of Azak. This was assisted by an embryonic Russian fleet, a small flotilla in the Don, and in July of 1696 Azak was taken. The Russians built a new fort to the west of the site, naming it Azov. On the newly acquired territory Peter also built Taganrog in 1698. But his defeat and capture on the Pruth in 1711 resulted in his being forced to demolish the fortifications of Azov and Taganrog, burn his fleet, and return his gains to the Porte.

As the Greeks had proven long before, the power on the Black Sea with its communications by water was at a distinct advantage over the power on land to the north. Just as the Greeks could not be dislodged save by the naval power of the Italians, and the Italians could not be dislodged save by the naval power of the Turks, despite all the successes of the Mongols all around the Crimea, so too would the Turks remain until dislodged by the naval power of Russia. And so it became imperative for Russia to build a fleet.

The clock was unfortunately set back for Russia following Peter's defeat in 1711. But his successors made up for lost ground by starting another war in 1735, which Austria joined in 1737. Though the Russians took the more inland Tatar capital of Bakhchisary in 1736, they failed to take any ports and retreated back upon the Ukraine once they ran out of supplies. The Russians captured Azov by storm in June of 1736, and the following year took Özi, by then becoming known as Ochakov. The Russians again forced Perekop and reached major inland cities in 1737, but lack of supplies and Turkish reinforcements by sea again compelled them to retire.

The Austrians were meanwhile defeated in Bosnia and, even more seriously, outside of Belgrade, after which time Belgrade was lost and Austria withdrew from the war in humiliation. Though the Russians had crossed the Dniester to take Khotin and invade Moldavia, the removal of Austria from the war and the impending declaration of war by Sweden seriously undermined Russia's ability to continue fighting. Accordingly, the Russians gave up their more ambitious claims, in the end settling for just Azov and the mouth of the Don, and agreeing that they were not allowed to maintain a fleet on the Black Sea.

But, naturally, this was bound to be only a temporary check. In 1768 the ambitions of Catherine the Great again put Russia at odds with the Turks. But interestingly, this time the Russians managed to bring a fleet into action. Their fleet in the Baltic circumnavigated Europe to reach the Aegean, where it engaged and destroyed the Turkish fleet at Chesma.

The Turks were most foolish for facing the Russians there when they could have retired into the Black Sea, where the Russians could not follow. As it were, now deprived of their most powerful ships, the Turks in the Black Sea were hard put to protect their forts. At the same time, the Russian victory under Admiral Alexei Orlov allowed the Orlov Revolt in Greece and the Balkans to flare up, tying down thousands of Turkish soldiers, raising the spectre of dismemberment of Turkey's European empire, and dramatically displaying the boundless ambition of St. Petersburg in the Balkans for the first time.

However, thanks to the intervention of Austria and the still tenacious resistance of the Turks, the Treaty of Kutchuk Kainardji in 1774 was not as bad as it could have been. The Southern Bug with the fortress of Kinburn, became the new western border of Russia. There Prince Gregori Potemkin built Nikolayev, the largest shipyard in Russia. The Crimea became independent of the Turks, as a sort of buffer, to which was included the mouth of the Don. And finally the line of the River Kuban demarcated the two empires in the northern Caucasus.

But Catherine's ambitions were insatiable. In 1783 with great pomp she annexed the Crimea and designated Sevastopol as the Russian Black Sea fleet's headquarters. As a sort of delayed reaction, the Turks declared war in 1787. In 1788 Prince Potemkin, with the help of the rapidly growing Russian fleet, captured Ochakov. Admiral Fyodor Ushakov then turned his fleet against the Turks at sea, which defeated their fleet at Tendra and the Kerch Strait. This allowed the Russians to cut the supply lines of the Turkish forts and to ferry supplies to their own armies. Not surprisingly, therefore, the Russians under Aleksandr Suvorov were able to push as far as the Danube before the Ottomans threw in the towel.

Once again foreign intervention, mostly Prussian and French, together with another invasion by Sweden, compelled the Russians to accept a modest peace. They pushed their frontier to the Dneister and the fortress of Akkerman controlling its mouth, where they were soon to found the city of Odessa. But Russia won the greatest prize of all, the Crimea, for the Sultan recognised its annexation by Russia and could no longer prevent the construction of a Russian fleet.

The decline of the Turks, exacerbated by their numerous enemies fighting them on multiple fronts, had allowed the Russians to gain naval supremacy in the Black Sea. For the first time in history, the power dominating the Black Sea was centred on the north shore instead of on the south shore. This was unnatural as Russia's centre was still comparatively very distant. But Turkey's weakness allowed this to happen.

Because of this the Russians were to fight with increasing success against the Turks in the following century. The latter, deprived of their sea power, could no longer adequately project their power north of the Balkan or Caucasus ranges in Europe and Asia respectively. As a result they could no longer maintain their strategically placed fortresses, allowing the Russians to seize them before crossing the Danube at Galatz.

So in the next war, that of 1806-1812, the Russians crossed the Danube into Bulgaria and made off with Bessarabia, pushing their border to the Pruth. They also achieved a protectorate over Georgia. In the war after that, 1828-1829, the Russians got farther than they ever had before. The Balkan Mountains were successully traversed. Fed by supplies over water to Varna and Burgas, the Russians pushed down the Maritsa to capture Adrianople on the Thracian Plain. Constantinople lay before them, but the Turks panicked, deciding to sue for peace. The discomfort this caused in European capitals convinced the powers to impose a moderating influence on Russia.

Consequently, Russia accepted the annexation of all Turkish territory north of the Caucasus, which Russia began to push to the south of henceforth, already having won wars against Persia pushing the Russian border to the Araxes to the east, and also the creation of an independent Greece and Serbia.

The power of Russia was now greatly increasing. It became clear to the powers that Russian naval supremacy expedited Russian attacks through the Balkans and the Caucasus, allowing them to sustain many more men and to move them much more rapidly than previously, while the Turkish defences were by constrast fatally undermined. Statesmen began fearing that Russia would soon destroy the Ottoman Empire. The Russians themselves unfortunately encouraged this belief by suggesting a partition of Turkey. But Russia's confidence was soon to endure a severe setback.

In 1853 the Russians invaded the Principalities of Wallachia and Moldavia. Immediately they were demanded to evacuate by Austria. Where Austria threatened, France and Britain acted. Both declared war on Russia and began the Crimean War.

Many think this war was silly and pointless, nothing could be farther from the truth. The overarching purpose was to destroy the Russian Black Sea fleet, by this action alone could Turkey be saved, which was at length achieved. Not without difficulty, however, for unfortunately the Russians prudently withdrew their fleet into Sevastopol.

While this protected their fleet, it was a dangerous game as there was nowhere else it could go. This meant that the British and French need only bring artillery within range of the harbour, as the Americans were to do at Santiago de Cuba to force Admiral Pascual Cervera out in 1898, to force the Russians into the open.

The Crimean War again demonstrated the superiority of the sea over the land in this quadrant of the globe. The Russians were to be reminded that the only reason they held sway in the Black Sea was on account of Turkish decadence. Faced with the power of France and Britain at sea, they had no hope of victory. And it was soon found out that the British and French could bring troops to the Crimea more quickly by sea than Russia could by land over its dreadful roads. The Russians found themselves not only unable to push their enemies back into the sea, but could not even relieve Sevastopol, which at last fell after a lengthy siege.

Russia's proud sailors scuttled their fleet in the harbour, and Russia's Black Sea presence came to an end for the next several decades. Russia's frontier was pushed back to the Dneister, as Bessarabia was returned to the Turks.

Now one might object that the Crimean War failed to achieve its purpose, for the Russians declared the 1856 Treaty of Paris null and void, deciding to rebuild their fleet following France's defeat at Prussia hands in 1871. I am of a much different opinion.

Though the Russians had declared their intention to rebuild their fleet, by the time war again broke out with Turkey in 1877, they hadn't actually seriously begun to do so. They found themselves with no fleet, and failing this they were unable to turn the position of Chataldzha that was the last ditch protecting Constantinople. Though the Russians were able to set up an impressive system of supply that stretched overland through the Troyan and Shipka Passes, they were greatly delayed at Plevna and permanently halted at Chataldzha.

The sluggish Russian advance compared unfavourably to their achievements in 1828-1829, and this was most probably due to inferior logistics caused by their lack of a fleet. When the Russians arrived before Chataldzha they found themselves unable to muster the strength to assault it head on, and had no fleet with which to bypass it.

Thus the Crimean War arguably saved the Turks one last time. Unable to seize Constantinople, the Russians contented themselves by stripping Turkey of Bulgaria, forcing her to disgorge the valley of the Morava to Serbia, Thessaly to Greece, while taking Kars and Bessarabia (again) for themselves. Though the Turks were much diminished by this, they survived.

As it turned out, 1878 was the last chance Russia had to gain Constantinople and because it did not have its fleet at the critical moment, thanks to its loss in the Crimean War, she missed it. In 1912 the newly created Balkan states united to destroy most of the remaining Turkish European empire, while Germany was drifting into open collision with Russia. Though Russia had superiority on the Black Sea during WWI and WWII, the pressing necessity of resisting the Germans to the west prevented them from effectively taking advantage of it to assault Turkey with troops that were required elsewhere.

With the end of WWII the United States took up the burden of defending the Turks from Russian aggression. This was symbolised with American financial and military aid to Turkey to suppress its communist elements favourable to Russia, recently incited to sedition in both Greece and Turkey by Moscow.

Stalin, realising the strengh of American sea power and therefore of the futility of pressing aggressive intentions upon Constantinople, agreed to a sort of balance in the Black Sea. Turkey would remain a client of the US, but would open the Straits to Russian shipping. Russia would predominate on the Black Sea from Sevastopol, using its fleet as a bargain chip to ensure Turkish compliance and goodwill. And this situation has quietly persisted down to our present day.

Having completed the narrative, it is worthwhile to touch base on what we learn from what it shows. But first off we need to go over what geography tells us about the situation. This section was taken from something I wrote at the beginning of the present dispute to explain Russia's geographic interest in the peninsula.

As you may know, navies are limited by what harbours they can use. Harbours sufficient for civilian use are most often not suitable for military purposes because they lack depth, space, protection, and adequate facilities for storing reserves of fuel, ammunition, and foodstuffs, housing personnel, as well as for repairing vessels which usually requires very large dry-docks as warships are larger and heavier than merchant ships.

Basically what we see is that naval harbours have to be very deep, very spacious, with sheltered harbours having easily controlled and protected entrances, plenty of room on shore for logistical facilities, as well as for facilities to maintain and repair warships, and additionally preferably are remote from major civilian metropolises.

Thus, for example, we see that France's naval bases are limited to two major ports, Brest on the Atlantic, and Toulon on the Mediterranean. Despite France's extensive coasts and myriad of commercial harbours, none of them for various reasons are of any use as fleet bases save the aforementioned two.

This is the first cardinal fact, that not just any port can be a naval base, in fact relatively few of them can be. Another useful example of this point is that despite Italy's extensive coasts, with water on all sides, the only suitable anchorages for a fleet base are La Spezia in Liguria, La Maddalena in Sardinia, and Taranto in Apulia.

Understanding this, we realise that the harbours available as fleet bases in the Black Sea are likewise extremely limited.

This map shows the important commercial harbours for Russian trade as orange circles; Nikolayev, Odessa, and Azov in Ukraine, with Rostov and Novorossisk in Russia. The vast majority of Russian export trade passes through these ports on its way across the Black Sea and thus to the outside world.

Looking towards the southwest of the map, we see the Sea of Marmara. Connecting the Black Sea and the Sea of Marmara is the very narrow Bosphorus Strait, highlighted in green. Connecting the Sea of Marmara with the Aegean Sea is the Strait of the Dardenelles. Together the two straits are colloquially known as the Turkish Straits, and are the only way most Russian export trade can get from the Black Sea to its customers across the oceans, as well as importing commodities from foreign sources.

For this reason, anybody controlling Constantinople controls the lifeline of Russia. If the Turks closed the straits Russia would suffocate as she could neither import nor export the vast majority of what she needs.

In order to guarantee themselves against the possibility of Turkey closing the straits for any given reason, Russia maintains a Black Sea fleet. This fleet gives Russia leverage against the Turks, allowing Russia to strike at the extensive northern coast of Anatolia and the ability to strike rapidly at Constantinople itself, called Istanbul on the map, the largest and richest Turkish city and the hub of its economic activity. This is a potent weapon to compel the Turks to keep the straits accessible in times of crisis. Without it, Russia is powerless to keep her airway open.

Now going back to naval bases, where Russia could permanently dock this fleet is extremely limited. The yellow circles identify those within close proximity to Russia. In Georgia are the limitedly useful harbours of Batumi and Poti, which are no longer used for naval purposes. The only truly suitable anchorage for a main fleet base is Sevastopol in the Crimea.

So what we see is that Russia is forced to either hold Sevastopol, or her naval presence on the Black Sea is to be terminated. If the Russian Black Sea Fleet left the Black Sea for the Baltic, Russia would have no means of obtaining assurance that the Turks keep the straits open to Russian trade if major war were to loom.

The Turks have closed the straits to Russia before, and the results have been absolutely devastating. Such as in WWI, the dislocation of the Russian economy and the subsequent discontent of the Russian people which led to two revolutions in one year was largely the result of the stifling of Russian trade by the closure of the straits by the Turks. Additionally, this precluded Russian access to crucial war material needed from her allies in the West, which arguably contributed to Russian shell and artillery shortages, causing her armies to be perpetually inferior to the Central Powers in firepower. Naturally this weakened Russia's ability to successfully contend with her antagonists and contributed to her staggering losses.

Thus the retention of Sevastopol and the removal of any threats to it by the government of the Ukraine, or of anyone else, is imperative to the survival of the Russian state.

One may object that Russia could put pressure on the Turks by a direct land invasion. As can be seen on the map, this would be most difficult from the west, as the Balkans and the Ukraine separate Russia from the straits on the European side. Additionally the comparatively narrow neck of land between the Carpathians and the Black Sea that forms eastern Romania is a death trap that the Austrian Empire traditionally exploited to compel the Russians to evacuate the Balkans, such as in 1829, 1856, and 1878. Especially considering that the marshes of the Danube Delta determine that Galatz is the farthest east one can cross from Moldavia into Wallachia over the line formed by the rivers Tatros-Sareth-Danube, essentially narrowing the Russian lines of communication even further to extend through a corridor formed between Foksány and Galatz, a distance of only about fifty-five miles in width. Though the Austrian Empire is no more, its policies can yet teach those who remain what may be done in similar situations.

This leaves the possibility of Russia striking through Georgia, which is weak and small. While this might seem ideal since Georgia is hardly to be expected to prevent Russian entry, the geography in this area is much less favourable for military operations, especially those of armoured formations which are Russia's primary advantage. The Caucasus Mountain chain, outlined in red, throws itself between Russia and Turkey, with colossal jagged peaks. Once across the main spine, there's still mountainous country for several hundred miles in any direction. This is highly defensible terrain for even weak opponents, and the Turks certainly aren't weak on land, further compounded by the fact that Russia would be unable to deploy her great numerical superiority in armour.

Furthermore, though there's less territory separating Turkey from Russia in this area, there's much more territory separating Russia from the straits, namely the whole length of mountainous hostile Anatolia. This is additionally constricted by the remoteness of the Caucasus from the Russian centre of gravity, which is far to the northwest. Getting troops to the region and maintaining them there would tax Russian logistical capacity, which would be further taxed by having to use narrow mountain passes traversible only by single columns of trucks, rather than by multiple trains. The amount of forces the Russians could deploy there would therefore necessarily be only be a fraction of their total strength, and, even if successful, would still be so far from the Turkish Straits as to hardly be able to compel the Turks to reopen them.

And so Russia's only real hope lies with the Black Sea fleet. This is much stronger than the Turkish fleet, and allows Russia a direct and decisive means of driving a stake into the very heart of Turkish power with great rapidity, which the Turks could not effectively prevent. It is the only thing standing between Russia and her potential suffocation. For this reason Russia absolutely cannot allow anything to happen to Sevastopol, and this fact serves to explain Russia's recent activity over the past few months in relation to the Ukraine in general and the Crimea in particular.

Understanding these salient points is only part of the lesson we draw from history and geography, however. For the above presupposes that Turkey, or any power using Turkey to access the Turkish Straits, remains passive. This would be making a dangerous assumption. For if the opponent were to be more active than suggested above, they could easily inflict even greater damage upon Russia, which shall be described below.

The historical narrative supplements the lessons of geography with yet further illumination. These lessons are primarily that the power controlling the sea is superior to that stronger on land. A relatively small force backed by a strong naval presence could destroy the Russian Black Sea fleet and seize control the Crimea by virtue of its more facile access by maritime communication and narrow connexion to the mainland.

This would be disastrous for Russia. The reason for this would be, of course, that the enemy could then base their fleet in Sevastopol. All of the ports in the north apart from Sevastopol are of limited utility for a major fleet. But assuming that Russia attempts to use them anyway, the problem is that any fleet leaving the Sea of Azov or the estuary of the Dnieper and Southern Bug must pass either east or west of Sevastopol, which can therefore intercept fleets moving either direction. This is equally true of any commercial shipping, which would have no choice but to hazardously sail close to the Crimea.

What this means is that a vigorous naval power, as the Greeks, Persians, Romans, Byzantines, Genoese, and Turks were at one time or another, could effectively prevent any establishment of sea power, commerical or naval, on the northern shore of the Black Sea. Not only could they thus prevent the Russians from sending their trade through the Black Sea, they could prevent the Russians from even developing any means of protecting this trade. Like the Greeks, Genoese, and the Turks in their prime, the hypothetical naval power could use the Crimea as a base to control the mouths of every major river either directly or indirectly. This would essentially gather all the threads of the major Russian, Belarussian, and Ukrainian trade routes in the hands of the naval power controlling the Crimea.

What history and geography also tell us is that this situation would be exceedingly difficult to reverse for a land-based power on the northern shore. Using the extremely defensible chokepoint of Perekop, and the power of its fleet, the naval hegemon can prevent an enemy army from bursting through into the Crimea, and even if that were to happen, the defensible position of Sevastopol, surrounded as it is by rugged mountainous terrain, wwould tend to again make its capture a difficult enterprise. Additionally, if the enemy were to breach Perekop, he would risk leaving his army trapped in the Crimea if a force were to land behind him and retake the isthmus.

Yet, so long as the Crimea remained in enemy possession and harbouring an enemy fleet, it could dominate the trade of the northern rivers which must necessarily collect in, and issue from, harbours close by and easily dominated by a fleet stationed at Sevastopol. The ancient city of Tauric Chersonesus grew rich by controlling the trade of the Don, the Southern Bug, the Kuban, the Dnieper, and the Dniester, which it then transported to Constantinople. This in antiquity was one of the major routes for the introduction of Chinese goods into Europe. This northern trade coupled with the direct route through Persia, also controlled by Constantinople, and the route through the Red Sea ports of Egypt, controlled by the Ottomans or Byzantines, allowed Constantinople to gather most of the eastern trade in its own hands. This made the power on the Bosphorus enormously wealthy, but at the expence of the impoverished Slavs and Tatars on the northern shore.

The Russians with admirable determination and implacable will have redressed this handicap in their favour, alone of the inhabitants of the steppe for the whole of recorded history. But it must be borne in mind that the only reason they were able to achieve this at all was because of the shameful decay of Turkish naval power. The fact remains that Russia's relative strategic position is much less advantageous than a potential naval power across the Black Sea. If the Crimea were lost, Russia would forfeit not only her sole guarantee for Turkish friendship, but would also forfeit any ability of ever regaining a position of dominance again. For what other port could she use? And even if by herculean efforts she did manage to dredge one to sufficient depth and width, how could she solve the problem of it being controlled by the central position of Sevastopol?

It is most important to recall that Russia was not a major European power until Kutchuk Kainardji, which is seen as a decisive turning point for so many different important reasons. But for our purposes, the one most relevant was the establishment of a Russian Black Sea fleet at long last. This dramatically reversed the course of the Russo-Turkish Wars during the nineteenth century. Whereas before they were small scale affairs with limited Russian success on the bleak northern shore, once they were equipped with a fleet the Russians threatened to storm Constantinople itself and tear down the minarets of the Sultan to their very foundations. For that reason many historians choose to open the classic diplomatic conundrum of the "Eastern Question" with Kutchuk Kainardji, which serves as a useful watershed on so many levels.

Faced with this alarming development, the Turks could no longer be so cavalier in their treatment of the Russians. As the nineteenth century progressed, Russian trade through the Black Sea swelled year after year. Grain shipments doubled, and redoubled. Population exploded. From 1800 to 1900 Russia soared into first place in Europe in size of population, its GDP surpassed that of France, and if Professor Norman Stone's figures are correct, overtook Britain's too before the outbreak of the First World War.

Turkish unilateral attempts to forestall this resulted in heavy defeats that came dangerously close to definitively ending the existence of the Ottoman Empire. Britain and France formed a temporary restraint, but Russia's growth was at last arrested, and at length reversed, by the efforts of Germany in conjunction with Turkey. Russia's future hopes of economic and political recovery are in large measure dependent upon retaining her dominant Black Sea position. She is at a vulnerable low at this point in time. The Soviet Union was able to threaten Constantinople by land through the client states of Bulgaria and Romania, augmenting the already terrifying sword of Damocles that was the Soviet Black Sea Fleet.

But times have since changed. Bulgaria, Romania, and even the Ukraine now impede any Russian advance overland, while Russia's Black Sea fleet is aging. It cannot seriously hope to fend off a determined modern navy. If such a navy were permitted into the Black Sea, repercussions for allowing which Turkey now has little to fear, the Crimea could plausibly be seized using its unique position in relation to the sea. That would leave Russia's ultimate destruction ensured.

So I end this treatise by stating that Russia's current Black Sea supremacy is singular in history, that it was largely accidental on account of Turkish weakness, and is in potential danger of being undone. A reversion to the more natural state is entirely possible. With the Ukraine adamantly resisting Russia, access through that country to reach the Isthmus of Perekop is doubtful at best, impossible at worst. This leaves Russia's communications with the Crimea very perilously dependent upon sea communications between Kerch and the Caucasus. While these are not serious in peacetime, given proximity, they may easily become exposed in wartime. If a fleet were to seize Kerch and operate even light naval units out of the harbour, communication with Russia would be irrevocably severed.

Without trying to sound too dramatic or prophetic, we may well be witnessing the beginning of the end for Russia. In many respects the rise of the Russian Empire, a power based on the northern shore of the Black Sea, was contrary to the nature of economics and power politics determined by geography. The dilapidation of Turkey made it possible, and for two glorious centuries Russia has catapulted herself to the forefront of European nations. But it would appear that the sands of time are running out. It remains to be seen just how precarious the foundations of Russian power truly are.

- Kaiser

35,000 vs 80,000 How Robert E. Lee and Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson Crushed General Joseph Hooker

Sunday, 8 June 2014

I have always found a certain fascination in those who lose, but lose so magnificently that you wish they would have won. At Chancellorsville, Virginia, General Robert E. Lee and Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson, with about 35,000 men completely destroyed General Joseph Hooker who had over 80,000 men, in a bold, daring, and downright brilliant manoeuvre that is worthy of admiration from any student of war.

Though Jackson fell from friendly fire, the battle ruined the Union's ability to take the offensive for that year. Lee imagined that his chance had come and launched an offensive into Union territory himself, which met its tragic finalé at Gettysburg. Nevertheless, despite losing to Meade at Gettysburg, Lee managed to extricate himself skillfully and arrived back in Virginia with all of his remaining forces.

In 1864 President Lincoln appointed Ulysses S. Grant to the supreme command and Grant took personal control over the Army of the Potomac in the decisive theatre against Lee. Grant had 120,000 men at his disposal against Lee's barely 60,000. At the Battle of the Wilderness and at Spotsylvania Court House, Lee defeated Grant, inflicting twice the amount of casualties on him as Lee received. Grant also failed to turn Lee's flank and the resulting Battle of Cold Harbour ended with Lee once again victorious.

To be consistently victorious against such odds is incredible. Lee, like Napoleon, and Hannibal, was defeated by attrition, not by his opponent's skill. Lee's reply to an enquiry by the Post-Master General of the Confederacy reveals the extent of his achievement.

"If he (Grant at Cold Harbour) breaks your line what reserves have you?"

"Not a regiment. And that has been my condition since I took command."

Sadly, on 9 April, 1865, General Robert E. Lee was nevertheless forced to surrender the main Confederate Army of Northern Virginia to General Ulysses S. Grant at Appomattox Court House.

It was the end of a glorious and exemplary command. Lee had performed miracles with his outnumbered and outgunned forces. Using guile to compensate for weakness, Lee proved a master tactician and an expert of positioning. Time and again he defeated greatly superior forces.

But even Lee's genius was not enough. After taking command, Grant intended to launch a systematic offensive against the Confederates to force them to stand before Richmond, the Confederate capital, and there be destroyed.

While the conception was sound, the Union Army proved incapable of implementing it in practice. Lee was far too agile and far too wily. He continued to inflict defeats on the Union in a campaign reminiscent of Napoleon's defence of France in 1814. But like Napoleon, Lee simply wasn't strong enough to win.

Though he could defeat his opponent, Lee could not definitively eliminate Grant's army. Every victory he gained, no matter how impressive, was merely delaying the inevitable. And finally the overwhelming force of the Union at last began to tell. On 2 April Grant defeated Lee at Petersburg, Virginia.

With this Lee retreated west, leaving Richmond to fall to Union forces. With the latter's fall the war was all but over. Grant had quickly sought to cut off Lee's escape, which was effectively done at Appomattox on 9 April. The Confederates made a spirited attempt to break out to the west, but Lee decided it was all over and surrendered his entire army to Grant.

Lee's defeat was the swansong of the Confederate States of America. Lee had always been the Confederacy's best commander and its only hope. Given his command of the primary army, Lee's defeat was in reality the defeat of the entire Confederacy.

Despite his ultimate failure, Robert E. Lee remains a popular figure in the United States and as a military commander, whose merits have been recognised as very extraordinary.

Pictured is General Robert E. Lee (standing) receiving the information gleaned by General Jackson's scouting of the Union positions.

What would happen should Turkey war with Greece, who would win?

Wednesday, 4 June 2014



As a sort of adjunct to that latest note (see: http://goo.gl/2AXmdT), I decided to examine a possible course of war between Turkey and Greece in our own time. A prospect that is sometimes discussed by lunatic Balkanites on Facebook, as is their wont to do. But while dismissing the more fantastic of these dreams, it would be interesting to evaluate more modest pretensions entertained by the two states.

The primary rival and most likely enemy of Greece is, of course, the Republic of Turkey.

In raw statistical terms, it would appear that Greece has little chance in a war against her gargantuan neighbour. With a population of over seventy millions and a GDP of $788 billion compared to Greece's barely over ten millions of population and a GDP of $249 billion, it would appear that Turkey would be the clear victor.

This view is seemingly further supported by the Greek defeat in the Greco-Turkish War of 1919-1922. But this setback should be understood in context.

During that conflict the Greeks by virtue of the Treaty of Sévres had acquired part of Ionia and Lydia, around the city of Smyrna in Anatolia. They rashly attempted to march on Ankara to force the Turkish Republic, which had repudiated Sévres, to recognise these losses.

Their ascent onto the Anatolian Plateau resulted in their defeat and evacuation of the peninsula. They were then compelled to accept the Treaty of Lausanne, establishing Turkey's current borders (except Hatay).

While Greece clearly failed to retain any territory in Anatolia or penetrate into the interior of the peninsula, the Turks had not destroyed her army or invaded her territory in retaliation. Turkey's victory was an entirely defensive one.

So we understand that that example would have little relevance in a war fought for offensive purposes.

The current dispute between the two nations involves the sovereignty of the island of Cyprus, and to a lesser extent the territorial waters of Greece's Aegean islands and the smaller islands of Imbros and Tenedos.

As such, the competition between the two will involve a maritime contest, the victor of which would be able to seize the contentious islands at their leisure.

Now, it is hardly to be conceived that Greece could successfully invade Anatolia. They proved incapable even when the Turks were in chaos and when the gap between the two powers was much more narrow than it is now.

But one might argue that Turkey would seek to use her numerical superiority to coerce Greece by striking her on the landward side. A direct invasion by land of Greece from Turkish Thrace would be an incredibly difficult undertaking.

Besides all of the passes I mentioned in my latest note shielding the interior of Greece, even entering the outlying fringe would be difficult.

The Greco-Turkish border is delimited by the Maritsa and the Arda, which river lines Greece might attempt to contest. If not, there's a much better position to the west.

As the Rhodopes curve south to reach the Aegean just west of the Maritsa, they form the mountainous region of Evros, the ridge visible on the map.

The only road over this ridge is along the pass of Makri, to the west of Alexandroupoli. As the Turks can go no other way, the Greeks could prepare for them there.

Presuming they'd force this, the Turks would then have to continue west through Komotini moving between Lake Vistonida and the Rhodopes, with the River Kompsatos forming a barrier in the narrow neck of land, forming an extremely defensible chokepoint.

Moving west from here through Xanthi, they could either move by way of the Mesta or hug the coast through Kavala and the Kavala Pass, but either way they'd have to move north or south of Mount Lekanis, which movement would be easily impeded by the Greeks on the heights of the mountain.

Meaning that the Turks would have to take the mountain before continuing west.

Moving west from there the main road passes between the Pangaeum Mountains, but if the Turks wished to move through wider passages they could go north passing between the Rhodopes and Pagaeum by the valley of the Aggitis to its confluence with the Struma.

Presuming the southern route is taken, the path continues west between Mount Cerdyllium and Mount Stratonicus, skirting either north or south of Lake Volvi where the paths between Mount Volvi and Lake Volvi to the north, and Mount Stratonicus and Lake Volvi to the south are very narrow.

Continuing west from Lake Volvi the Turks would run into Lake Coronea, having to pass north of that lake between it and Mount Vertiscus, or south between the lake and Mount Choriatis, before finally reaching the valley of the Vardar and Salonica.

If, instead, the Turks passed north of Mount Pangaeum to follow the Aggitis to the valley of the Struma, they could deploy widely in the plains formed by that river, but the Greeks would be able to hold the narrow route commanding their exit.

The Turks would have to pass between Mount Belasica (north) and Mount Krousia (south), just west of the Rupel Gorge.

Nestled between the mountains is Lake Kerkini, the only practical route around which is to the north. Presupposing that the Turks succeed in crossing this path, they'd run into Lake Dojran.

It would be necessary to pass between the eastern shore of this lake and the western slopes of Mount Krousia, which at last would bring the Turks to the valley of the Vardar and the plains of Macedonia.

After which they could pass either between Mount Olympus and Mount Ossa by the Vale of Tempe or between Mount Vermium and Mount Olympus by the valley of the Aliacmon to reach the plains of Thessaly and thus the regions outlined in the note.

I would consider it highly unlikely that the Turks would ever succeed in even reaching the plains of Macedonia, let alone Thessaly, with a landward assault, even in great superiority.

On the other hand, it would be a different story if the Turks gained control of the sea with a shattering naval victory. They could bypass much of the Greeks' defences, and they could overrun Cyprus along with any Aegean island.

Now one might think that Turkey's superior wealth and population would ensure her supremacy of the seas, but would it really? It remains to be seen.

Suffice to say that the Greeks would have an honest chance, or even would be favoured to defeat the Turks at sea. Since achieving independence, the Greeks have dominated the Aegean in every conflict between themselves and the Turks.

Indeed the Turks were so petrified of facing the Greeks on the waves that they only ever fought two major engagements with them after 1830, at Elli and Lemnos, in both of which the Turks fled to safety as soon as the Greeks concentrated fire on them. After these defeats the Turks did not dare to again contest the Greek fleet, preferring to cringe in the security of the Propontis.

History does not much favour the Turks, as the Greeks are both better sailors and have generally better craft. In a major fleet engagement I'd be surprised if the victory didn't go to the Greeks.

In the event of Greece defeating the Turks at sea, they would be able to seize the whole of Cyprus, and would simultaneously virtually remove any danger of a Turkish invasion of the Greek mainland, for that would require such routes as we've traced out.

Naturally, therefore, the Turks are not at all eager to challenge the Greeks, who have always been superior to them at sea. Recent reform and determined naval programmes may allow the Turks to prevail, but it would be difficult on account of an ingrained inferiority complex such as that which had paralysed the French in their wars against the British.

So while a Greek invasion of Anatolia or dreams to regain Constantinople are the delusions of fools, it would be incorrect to state that Greece has no chance against Turkey in a war regarding more limited aims.

Greek statesman have little time for Constantinople or dreams of restoring the Byzantine Empire. But a cardinal point of their foreign policy is Cyprus, either to restore the legitimate government's sovereignty over the entire island, or, if possible, to annex it to Greece.

This ambition is entirely within their power to achieve, provided they could successfully impose a marked ascendancy over the Turkish Navy. Given that the Greeks have done so in every conflict between the two since 1821, it would be very odd to argue that they cannot do so now.

The map is small scale, so it might be difficult to see. But the necessary route of advance is in yellow, while the relevant mountains are labelled in green and the lakes are in blue.

Comparison Between the Invasions of Greece in the Springs of 1897 and 1941

Tuesday, 3 June 2014

The geography of Greece is immensely defensible. Even a weak power with sufficient determination can defend the salient formed by the the country as it juts south from the main peninsula of the Balkans between the Aegean and Ionian seas against vastly superior invaders.


This is particularly true if the defender also retains control of the sea, which is very possible on account of modern Greece consistently dominating the Archipelago with its surprisingly powerful navy. This allows the defender to fully exploit the narrow chokepoints which allow entry into successive regions of the country.


As fantastically situated as Greece is, forming a veritable natural fortress, the defender can yet, by those false steps not uncommon in wars between mankind, place himself in an embarrassing situation much to his disadvantage.


In this present work, I intend to use two striking examples to demonstrate what a defender whose base is in southern Greece should do in the face of a superior enemy power, and what he should not do. Apart from the examples of antiquity, such as the invasion of Greece by the Persians under Xerxes, or the march of Alexander to Thebes, and the example of the Greek Revolution, these are much more instructive for our purposes, especially the latter, which is of an entirely singular nature.


The first example is that of the Greco-Turkish War of 1897. This is a very useful conflict for demonstrating our point about Greece's physical advantages.


After the creation of the independent Greek Kingdom in the early months of 1830, the country was delineated to run from the northeastern shore of the Gulf of Ambracia, continuing northeastwards into the mountains of the Pindus and Tymphristus, then turning south to run along the southern slope of the Othrys north of the plain of Phthiotis, formed by the valley of the Spercheus as it flows into the Malian Gulf, upon which lies the great city of Lamia. This frontier is depicted on the first map.


To the west of the Pindus, the regions of Aetolia and Acarnania, is very rugged and inhospitable. There is no suitable crossing over the Pindus south of Metsovo, and as this region lies south of the Gulf of Ambracia, it is rather well protected.


The Greeks had an additional advantage of sea power which allowed them to move quickly in the western regions of their country. Movement by sea was virtually the only way a large army could operate in Aetolia or Acarnania, and without sea power they could not cross the Gulf of Corinth from Acarnania or Phocis to the Morea.


This ensured that the decision would be found farther east. There one must cross Mount Othrys to enter the valley of the Spercheus if they are to reach Athens and the Peloponnese by land.


There were two ways to cross the Othrys, one was by the coastal road from Halmyros to Pelasgia around the eastern slopes of the mountains, and passing north of Cape Artemisium to reach the Spercheus. As this passed close to the sea, and just opposite the island of Negroponte, it was sensitive to marine operations.


Therefore, in order to reach the plain of Phthiotis from the north securely by land, one must necessarily cross the single major pass over the Othrys at Phourka. This would take one from the plains of Lake Xynias (now drained) to Lamia.


Once in Lamia one could continue south to the mountains of Callidromo and Oeta. One could then move north of the Callidromo and Cnemis along the narrow coastal road of Phocis opposite Negroponte and thus enter the plain of Boeotia from the north by way of Martino or Kastro. This path is much easier, but it is blocked by Thermopylae and vulnerable to the influence of sea power, which could be employed to cut the lines of communication by a daring landing behind an advancing enemy.


Therefore a foe without command of the sea would be compelled to adopt the inferior, but more secure, passage over the Brallos Pass between the mountains of Oeta and Callidromo. This would take one to the plains of Elatea, between the mountains of Callidromo and Cnemis to the north, Oeta and Giona to the west, and Parnassus to the south.


From here, one could take the Gravia Pass between Giona and Parnassus to reach Amphissa. Passing near the coast they could travel by way of the ancient oracle of Delphi between mounts Parnassus (north) and Kirfis (south), continuing north of Mount Helicum to reach the plains of Boeotia at the city of Livadia.


As this path takes one to the coast, it makes them vulnerable to a landing by way of the Gulf of Itea. Therefore the much easier route lay directly east along the River Cephisus which takes one directly from the plains of Elatea to those of Boeotia with no mountains intervening, but with mountains to the north and south shielding one's flanks from an amphibious assault on one's communications.


Moving through Amphicleia along the Cephisus one quickly passes between Parnassus (west) and Cnemis (east) to emerge on the plains of Boeotia near Chaeronea, where in 338 B.C. Philip of Macedon, Alexander the Great's father, defeated Athens and Thebes to establish the unity of Greece under Macedonian hegemony, with the exception of Sparta and the Morea.


In ages past the road ran to Orchemenus and thence south along the western shore of Lake Copais, and then eastwards along the south shore of the lake, which occupied a great portion of the plains. This afforded much greater protection than today, for the lake has been drained, making Boeotia entirely open from west to east, leaving the road to Thebes much less difficult than before.


Once in Thebes, the road to Athens is barred by the daunting mountains that rise sharply to the south and east. The easiest route, again, lies to the north, following the foothills of Mount Parnes along the coast, then moving between Parnes and the mountains of Epacria by way of the Malakasa Pass. The road then passes east of Parnes, on the western end of the Plain of Marathon where the Persians of Darius landed in a clever attempt at bypassing the defences of Athens in 490 B.C.


This road then passes between Mount Parnes and Mount Pentelicus to reach the plain of Athens from the northeast. Alternatively one could move east, north of Mount Pentelicus across the plain of Marathon, then skirt around the east and then south of that mountain, to enter the plain of Athens from the east between Mount Pentelicus and Mount Hymettus by way of the Gargetos Pass.


Since this was vulnerable to interdiction by sea, if one were not in command of the Aegean it was preferred to instead move south from Thebes. Crossing the pass of Dryoscephalae over Mount Cithairon to the plain of Vilia, and then continuing over Mount Pateras one reaches the Thriasian Plain north of the Gulf of Eleusis at Mandra.


Crossing this plain, one can go either east or southeast. The Daphni Pass separating the northern and southern parts of Mount Egaleo can be traversed by moving southeast. But, obviously, this again passes near the coast. Therefore the Phyle Pass between Mounta Egaleo (south) and Mount Parnes (north) is much preferred. It is also far wider and more accessible.


The Athenian Plain itself is formed by the rivers Cephissus and Illisus that flow from Mount Parnes to Phalerum Bay. It is bounded in the north by Mount Parnes, to the east by Mount Hymettus, to the west by Mount Egaleo, and to the south by the Saronic Gulf. As such it is an impressive citadel of nature, protected from the landward side and given easy access to the sea, while a fleet defending its seaward approaches can take shelter in the nearby Gulf of Eleusis, formed by the island of Salamis.


Thus is described the way by which one could take Athens by marching overland, away from the sea to avoid granting the advantage to the dominant sea power. Taking Athens would be a disastrous blow to the Kingdom of Greece, but presuming that the Greeks insisted on fighting on further in the much superior region of the Peloponnesus, an invader would would find that prospect most difficult.


Either before or after taking Athens, one would have to use the Dryoscephalae Pass to reach the Thriasian Plain, and then follow the coastal road west, south of Mount Pateras, to reach the plain of Megara.


Just east of the Isthmus of Corinth rises the heights of Mount Gerania, forcing one to hug the coast south of Gerania to reach the isthmus just west of the mountain.


The isthmus is very narrow and easily controlled, virtually impossible to outflank save by sea, and is the last stronghold of the Greek Kingdom. It is no coincidence that the Pelopennus has always been the heart of Greece, whence their people originated and the last bastion of their culture when they fell to the Turks. It is home of the ancient Greek cities of the Iliad like Argos, Pylos, Corinth, Sparta, and Mycenae.


As such, the peninsula is not only easily sealed off from the mainland, but is itself extremely rugged and mountainous. Virtually the entire interior is mountainous and defensible, with the coast dropping dramatically to sea level. Apart from the coasts, the valleys of the Pamisus, the Eurotas, the Inachus; and the plain of Elis west of Mount Erymanthus, are the only low-lying regions.


The Pamisus is in the southwest of the Morea, forming the region of Messenia. The heart of Messenia lies along the river valley between the ranges of Kyparissia and Lycodomo in the west, and the Taygetus in the east.


The Eurotas is in the southeast of the Morea, forming the region of Laconia. Most of the population lives along the banks of the river which cuts a plain between the Tagyetus in the west and Mount Parnon in the east. On the river lies the city of Sparta, and the region formed the territory of that famous city-state in ancient times.


The Inachus is in the east of the Morea, between Mount Parnon in the west and mounts Arachnaio and Didymo in the east. It forms an exceptionally rich alluvial plain which was ruled by the city of Argos in antiquity.


All of these regions are easily accessible from the sea, as the Pamisus, Eurotas, and Inachus flow into the gulfs of Messenia, Laconia, and Argolis respectively. The southern peninsulas of the Morea also extend south into the Mediterranean like an outstretched three-fingered hand.


The westernmost of these is the peninsula of Acritas. The central peninsula is the Mani Peninsula, between the two is the Gulf of Messenia. Further east of the Mani Peninsula is the peninsula of Malea, between which two lies the Gulf of Laconia. Farthest east, forming the "thumb" of the hand, is the Argolic Peninsula east of the Inachus valley. Between it and Malea lies the Gulf of Argolis. These gulfs have traditionally been controlled by the island of Cerigo, a base long used by the fleets of Venice. But it is clear from this description that the Morea is formidable citadel for the Greeks, even should Athens fall to an enemy, and so long as they control the sea.


In any case, the border of 1830 was much in Turkish favour as it left the Phourka Pass in Turkish hands. As the Turks did not possess naval superiority at any time after the Greek Revolt, save briefly during the intervention of the Egyptians, their only practical route lay inland to avoid the coast and the Greek advantages of sea power.


This route was extremely predictable and necessarily had to traverse numerous passes, each of which could be consecutively held by the Greek defenders. As such the Turks would find the going rough. Their route is traced on map one.


During the Crimean War the embryonic Kingdom of Greece was deterred from joining Russia by the naval presence of the British and French fleets. A similar situation existed during the Russo-Turkish War of 1877-1878. But Russia endeavoured to improve Greece's position nonetheless at the Congress of Berlin in 1878. That congress decided to award Thessaly to Greece at Turkish expence, which was hammered out after a boundary commission agreed to particulars in 1881.


The new Greek frontier considerably strengthened Greece's defences, while also increasing her population and resources.


Though plans were made to extend the northwestern border far into Epirus, this was not done. The border remained the Gulf of Ambracia in the west, but once it reached the Pindus it turned sharply north running almost to the Katara Pass, just south of Metsovo. From there it ran along the ridges north of Kalambaka and Meteora. Just east of Trikkala it turned south to encompass much of the ridge of Kritiri, before following the eastern slopes of that ridge north to the west of Tyrnavo, and thus to the ridge of Analypsis and Mount Olympus.


Naturally, the Turks kept all of the keys to Thessaly in their own hands, and these were the passes leading onto the plains. This made defence of Thessaly somewhat problematic.


The Kalambaka Pass opens onto the plain from the northwest, but there was little danger of an invasion from this direction given the remoteness of location and difficulty of terrain to the north. The most obvious and by far the most practical route lay through the Vale of Tempe between Mount Olympus and Mount Ossa, formed by the lower course of the River Peneus. Lesser passes exist just west of the vale, like that of Nezeros near the eponymous lake, now drained.


More inland passes exist in the ridge of Kritiri, the main one linking Elassona with Larissa, called the Melouna which divides the ridge of Kritiri from that of Analypsis. Farther south, just west of Tyrnavo, is that of Reveni, while to the south, north of Koutsochero is that of the Skoumpa Defile. These positions are marked out on map two.


Larissa held the line of the Peneus, dividing the plain of Thessaly in half. But beyond this the only defensible positions were in the Volos Pass at the foot of Mount Pelium and the Agoriani Pass through the centre of Mount Kassidiari.


As such the Greeks were in a somewhat difficult position when they declared war on the Turks in 1897. The Cretan revolts had raised tensions between Greece and the Ottoman Empire since their outbreak in the 1860s. Greece nearly went to war in 1886, but was restrained by the Great Powers who blockaded Piraeus.


On 18 April, 1897, though, the spark was lit. Using their superior fleet the Greeks quickly overran Crete while deciding to stand on the defensive in Thessaly. They hoped to advance to secure the passes, perhaps igniting a revolt in Macedonia behind the Turks, and thereby compel the Porte to surrender Crete.


The initial Greek plan was to make the main thrust into the Skoumpa Defile and the Reveni Pass making for Damassi, and perhaps getting behind the Turkish forces based on Elassona.


For their part, the Turks intended to pin the Greeks in front at the Melouna Pass and strike their left flank at Tyrnavo after emerging from the Reveni Pass.


As the Turkish flanking attack ran into the main Greek force, it was put to flight. However, the Turks were not long in realising that the Greeks had made their main effort to the west, and therefore modified their own plans. Instead of flanking the Greek left from Reveni as it moved north, the Turks threw their main body at Melouna to flank the Greek right as they moved west towards Damassi.


In the short series of engagements, the Greek flank was turned and they retreated in chaos towards the south. Their disorganised and ill-disciplined forces abandoned Larissa without a fight on the 25th, which the Turks considered most peculiar as the city was well fortified and capable of protracted resistance.


The Greeks fell back in two directions. As they were dependent upon the sea for supplies, and in particular on the port of Volos, they decided to detach a strong force to the southeast in order to cover that city and guard the Volos Pass at Velestino.


The other detachment moved due south to a northern spur of the Kassidiari, near the town of Pharsalus. Near this town in 48 B.C. Julius Caesar defeated Pompey at the Battle of Pharsalus. It is also near Cynoscephalae, where the Macedonians under Philip V were defeated by the Romans under Titus Flaminius in 197 B.C., which resulted in the conquest of Greece by Rome.


On this fateful field history was to be decided once more. The decision to detach forces to Velestino was a serious mistake. The heights of Mount Mavrovouni rose between the two Greek forces and split them from each other.


The Turkish generals were eager to fall on Velestino first and drive the Greeks into Volos, after which their comrades farther west would be cut off from reinforcements and supplies by sea. Accordingly, already on the 27th the Turks had engaged the Greeks at Velestino, and inadvertently forced them to retreat to the south, towards Halmyros, uncovering Volos.


Volos fell to the Turks on the 8th of May, and it was a bitter blow to the Greeks. Before this had happened the Greeks farther west had been defeated at Pharsalus during the 6th and 7th, being forced southwest towards the Agoriani Pass and the town of Domokos.


The Greeks at Domokos and Halmyros were now totally isolated from one another. Domokos and the Agoriani Pass were all that lay between the Turks and their breakout into the plains of Lake Xynias and on towards the Phourka, which was the obvious Turkish route as the Greeks still held control of the sea despite the loss of Volos, and had their fleet to their back at Halmyros.


At Domokos on the 17th, the Greek position was outflanked and defeated, and once more the Greeks were forced to retreat, this time flying over the Phourka to Lamia. At this point the Greeks requested that the Tsar of Russia mediate the conflict and terms for an armistice. The troops evidently got wind of this, as many were dispirited and demoralised by the news, and many hoped that no further fighting would occur. They were mistaken, their enemy still advanced.


Perhaps as a result of this gloom, the Greeks do not seem to have attempted to hold the Phourka Pass, at least not initially or at its entrance. The confused situation at the Greek headquarters allowed the Turks to establish themselves in the pass before the Greeks were in position to hold it. Nonetheless the Greeks secured the southern length of the pass, so on the 19th the Turks and Greeks fought for control of the pass and the entrance to the plain of Phthiotis.


On the afternoon of the 19th an armistice was agreed to, for seventeen days, and the two sides ceased fighting. The Turks returned north of the Othrys pending the final peace settlement, while the Greeks stood at Lamia. The Greek forces that were previously at Halmyros were brought by land and sea to Lamia starting on the 18th, and were despatched to take up position southwards, to the Hot Gates, when they arrived on the 19th and 20th.


With the Greeks situated between Lamia and Thermopylae, and the Turks in the plain of Lake Xynias, the war in Thessaly came to an end. The Greeks had been utterly defeated. Yet, this defeat was not as serious as one might imagine. The Hellenic Army, though battered, was intact. It had successively and skillfully withdrawn upon its own communications and had fought several delaying actions, which, if not victories, at least preserved the army and its equipment.


Operations in Aetolia-Acarnania and at sea were subsidiary to our purposes. As the Turks controlled the entrance to the Gulf of Ambracia with their strong fortress at Preveza, where Barbarossa famously defeated Andria Doria in 1538, the Greeks were confined to entering Epirus by way of the narrow road between the Pindus and the Gulf of Ambracia.


North of the gulf is a broad plain formed by the rivers Arta and Louros, which continues west to the Rodias Lagoon, west and south of which is the peninsula on which lies Preveza.


The Turks attacked the bridge over the Arta on the 21st of April, but after an artillery duel which did not go their way, they retreated westwards across the Louros.


The Greeks then attacked across the Arta towards Philippiada to the west and into the Pentepigadia Defile to the north on the 23rd, hoping to rouse the population to revolt and thereby enter Ioannina. This was unsuccessful, and the Greeks were forced back across the Arta after losing actions in the Pentepigadia Defile between the 27th and the 30th.


As the Greeks had lost at Pharsalus on the 6th and 7th of May, the Greek High Command decided to attempt another offensive into Epirus to offset their defeat in Thessaly. The Greeks accordingly attacked north towards Grimpovo and Ampelia between the 12th and 16th, but did not get as far as they had the month before, and were compelled to retreat once more east of the Arta, having achived nothing. On the 19th the armistice was concluded and hostilities ceased.


Meanwhile, at sea, as we've seen, the Greeks overran Crete very quickly. The Greek fleet bombarded Preveza on the 17th of April, and landed men north of the city with the intention to take that place on the 18th. Between the 21st and the 23d the cities of Parga and Santi Quaranta were bombarded from the sea.


Unfortunately, by the 16th of May a Turkish counterattack had driven the Greeks into the sea from their positions before Preveza. The Greek forces farther east failed to cooperate with the navy and its landings to secure Preveza. Not surprisingly, therefore, the Turks took advantage of the Greek Army's retreat across the Arta to fall upon the isolated troops blockading the peninsula of Preveza. They were forced to evacuate in some panic.


In the east the Greek fleet bombarded the Turkish positions east of Mount Olympus at Lephtokarya, Platamonas, and Katerini on the 21st of April. They also landed temporarily at Lephtokarya to sever the railway line leading through the Vale of Tempe, while another force on the 20th landed near Alexandroupoli in an attempt to cut the railway line between Constantinople and Salonica. These landings likely convinced the Turks to stick to inland roads and avoid the coast.


On the 24th of April bombardments were conducted on Cape Kassandra in the Gulf of Therma. But operations further south called the Greek fleet away from assaulting the totally undefended port of Salonica, to Volos. Here they departed for Halmyros on the 8th of May, and between the 18th and the 20th they ferried the troops from Halmyros to Stilida, where they marched west to join the main Greek army at Lamia, and thence to Thermopylae as we've seen. On 5 June, the armistice was extended to naval operations.


Four months later the Treaty of Constantinople was signed, on 19 September, after prolonged negotiations. Greece had been defeated, but not as decisively as she might have been. The Greeks still held their positions along the River Arta in Acarnania, they held Crete, and the Turks had not crossed the Phourka Pass. The Greeks essentially retained their positions along the old 1830 frontier, plus Crete.


The Turks had won, but as the Greek Army was very much intact, and the Greeks remained supreme at sea, they were willing to conclude a moderate peace rather than attempt to force the Hot Gates or the Brallos in the teeth of Greek naval power. The Turks had initially desired to regain Thessaly, but to this Greece could not be induced to consent, and Russia would not agree to insist upon it.


Therefore the Turks contented themselves with imposing a crushing indemnity upon Greece of four million pounds, at the time far beyond the annual expenditure of the nascent kingdom, which crippled her for some time. In addition the Greeks were compelled to withdraw from Crete, the reason for the war, and recognise the return of Turkish sovereigntly, albeit with provisions for autonomy creating the so-called Cretan State.


The third map displays the positions and movements of the Greeks east of the Pindus during the war of 1897. Many contemporaries and later historians were highly critical of the Greeks. Dividing their forces after their retreat from Larissa was most foolish. Some are of the opinion that the Greeks should have retired with their whole strength upon Volos.


While this would have exposed the Agoriani Pass and the Phourka beyond it, uncovering the road to Athens, the presence of the Greeks on the Turkish left made an advance on Athens impossible lest the Greeks suddenly emerge from the hills of Mount Pelium to cut the Turkish lines of communication over the aforementioned passes and trap the Turks in Phthiotis or Boeotia.


Even so, the predicament of the Greeks was much better than it could have been. Though they failed to effectively utilise the strength of the position at Volos or the flexibility offered by their control of the sea, the Turks were nevertheless still incapable of eliminating their army. Battered and bruised as it was, it retreated, somewhat haphazardly, to the passes blocking the advance of the enemy. At the Phourka, far from their bases, and with the Greeks still in possession of naval superiority, the Turks were satisfied to end their campaign there.


Many have believed that they could have, and should have, advanced all the way to Athens. Given what we know, the prospect of success for such an attempt can only be regarded as doubtful. And even if Athens fell, there remained the Morea which the Turks would find nearly impossible to reduce without command of the sea, a factor which had spelled their doom during the Greek Revolution and which they were equally unable to secure in 1897.


The Turks had been successful, at least in the east of Greece and on land. But they had failed in Crete, which was under Greek occupation. With their navy the Greeks might yet have seized all the islands of the Archipelago, as they were to do later during the Balkan Wars. And in, fact the final contest on the field of Domokos was not a decisive victory like Austerlitz, Marengo, or Ulm. Doubting their ability to push on to Athens, the Turks rather easily yielded to the remonstrances of Russia to return to the status quo ante.


It was to be a much different story in the spring of 1941.


First of all, the Greeks had learned from their defeat in 1897, which obliged them to reform and improve their military. In 1912 and 1913 the Greeks successively defeated the Ottoman Empire and Bulgaria, at which point the Ottoman Empire in Europe, save Thrace, was partitioned between Serbia, Montenegro, Bulgaria, Greece, and an independent Albania created at Austrian and Italian insistence.


Greece belatedly joined the First World War, which won for her parts of Anatolia and most of Turkish Thrace, which were lost again after the rise of Mustapha Kemal. But the Greeks succeeded in seizing the remainder of Bulgaria's Aegean coast leaving herself and Turkey as the sole powers maintaining any sort of fleet in the Aegean. This was supplemented by the acquisition of Crete and most of the Aegean islands during the Balkan Wars.


Thus the northern border of Greece ran along the northern Pindus opposite Albania, thence along Mount Verno and Mount Voras, to continue along the Rhodope range all the way to the Maritsa.


It was very difficult to access Greece from Albania, and in any case one could only reach the plains of Thessaly over the Pindus by way of the Katara Pass, far to the south and easily defended. Given Albanian weakness Greece needn't fear an invasion from the northwest. This leaves the only practical routes into Greece farther east.


Between Mount Verno and Mount Voras is the Monastir Gap around the vicinity of Bitola, in today's Republic of Macedonia. Serbia conquered Macedonia during the Balkan Wars, and it was retained by Yugoslavia well into the Second World War. Given traditional friendship and alliance between Athens and Belgrade, the Monastir Gap was secure.


East of the Monastir Gap flows the River Vardar. This forms a broad and accessible valley between Mount Paiko and Lake Dojran, rapidly opening onto the plains of Macedonia all the way to Salonica and the Aegean. As this, too, was in Yugoslavia, the Greeks could consider it secure.


Of immediate danger was the Greco-Bulgarian border. The easiest and most obvious path into Greece from Bulgaria is through the Rupel Gorge formed by the River Struma. This was easily defensible and the Greeks could plug this gateway.


Some one hundred miles east of the Rupel Gorge lies the Makaza Pass, just north of the city of Komotini. While this is more difficult to defend given the great length of front to cover from the Rupel Gorge to Makaza, the Greek Army very wisely contracted the distance to only reach the line of the River Mesta, just east of Mount Lekanis and on the coast adjacent to Thasos. If necessary this could be withdrawn westwards towards the city and pass of Kavala at the foot of Mount Lekanis.


This position is immensely difficult to outflank, especially if one does not have control of the sea. Thus the Greek lines running from the Struma to the Mesta were virtually impregnable.


The last entrance into Greece is along the valley of the Maritsa. This is most likely where the Turks would enter, given that it borders upon their country. Assuming that the Turks succeeded in getting across the river, they'd be faced by the superb Greek defences along the Mesta and upon Mount Lekanis. As the Greeks had no intention of contesting the Maritsa against Bulgaria in the event of war, an invader from the north would just put himself farther east of the Greek defences along the Mesta than he would coming down from the Makaza.


All of these passes and the Greek northern frontier can be seen in map four. Presuming one were to surmount these difficulties, to reach the plains of Thessaly and thus the route the Turks took on their way to Athens in 1897, and the Persians took in 480 B.C., one could take a number of paths.


The most direct and by far the most convenient route lay through the Vale of Tempe, as we're already familiar with from the previous war. Assuming that path brings one too close to the sea, the other options were the Petra Pass, a most inferior road, and the main inland passage along the valley of the Aliacmon, and from there over the Sarantoporo Pass.


Petra and Sarantoporo bring one to Elassona, the headquarters of the Turkish Army in 1897, and thence over the Melouna Pass to the plains of Thessaly. All of this being depicted on map five.


This foray into geography brings us at last to the terrible debacle that befell the proud Hellenic Kingdom in the spring of 1941, during the Second World War. Intriguingly, this operation bears a marked similarity to the campaign against France in the summer of 1940. Though the Greeks were most assuredly inferior to the Germans in nearly every category, and many have criticised Churchill's desire for a Balkan stronghold as fanciful, I've been led to conclude that the Greeks had an honest chance.


What allowed them to be so rapidly defeated was not the supposed overwhelming superiority of the Germans, nor the inadequacy of British assistance to the Greeks. In this respect it, again, resembles France in 1940. The Greeks may console themselves with the myth that they had no chance, but in reality they abandoned their, very solid, chance of indefinitely holding their opponents at bay. Their own arrogance and the Germans' skillful and unexpected exploitation of a "blind spot," so to speak, was what allowed them to defeat the Greeks in the same way that they had defeated the French.


Normally, a Greek withdrawal, even a chaotic one, could be conducted with great skill and yet be able to contest the numerous chokepoints leading into their homeland. With control of the sea, the possible avenues of advance were further limited. This gave the Greeks a clear idea of where their enemies must pass, and gave them the opportunity to bitterly contest each pass, making their enemies pay dearly for every foot of ground they took. Such a possibility was carefully illustrated by the operations that characterised the Greco-Turkish War.


The Germans were to take an entirely different approach than that of the Turks, and they were to, remarkably, barely fight the Greeks at all. Nonetheless their victory over the Greeks was decisive and irreversible, and laid the entire kingdom prostrate at their feet in a matter of days. This next portion will explain how they achieved this remarkable success.


In October of 1940, Italian dictator Benito Mussolini, perhaps jealous of Germany's astonishing success, sought to achieve an impressive military victory of his own. He pressed upon the Greeks his demands for bases and garrisons which the Greeks considered tantamount to annexation. They rejected the Italian demands with scorn, leading the Italians to declare war on the 28th of October.


Given that Italy had invaded and annexed the Kingdom of Albania on 7 April, 1939, the Italians were able to invade Epirus from Albania. Unfortunately for Italy, her declaration of war came well after she was at war with the United Kingdom, and her fleet had patently failed to achieve ascendency over the tenacious British Mediterranean Fleet. Failing this, the Italians were unable to exercise their naval power to move more flexibly around the eastern coasts of Greece.


This compelled them to advance headlong into the bleak inhospitable crags of the Pindus in northwestern Greece. Here the Greeks used their terrain to their advantage, and soon the Italians had been completely halted.


As Greek reserves rushed towards the front, the Greeks soon established numerical superiority over the wavering Italians, and this allowed them to counterattack into Albania. Between November of 1940 and February of 1941, the Greeks swept the Italians entirely out of northern Epirus and had reached as far north as Valona, which important port they attempted to capture.


On 9 March, the newly re-inforced Italians launched a spring offensive that pushed the Greeks back from Valona but failed to take the Klisoura Pass, and by the 20th their attack had run out of steam.


Nonetheless the Greeks were well inside the borders of Albania, having clearly bested the inept Italians in the mountains of Epirus. Their front lines ran irregularly from the shores of Lake Ohrid at Pogradec to the Ionian Sea at the port of Chimara. But this very success was to prove their undoing.


As British bombers operating from Greek aerodromes were within striking distance of the Ploești oilfields in Romania, Hitler decided that Germany must intervene to remove the British and their Greek allies from the Balkans. In pursuance of this, he drew in Bulgaria, Romania, and Yugoslavia as accomplices. But Yugoslavia's anti-German coup d'état on 27 March, 1941, decided Hitler to overrun Yugoslavia on the way to Greece.


On 6 April the operations against both Greece and Yugoslavia were opened. By the 18th Yugoslavia had been ground into dust and the Germans were already well on their way to victory in Greece.


The Germans were perceptive enough to realise that simply battering the Greeks south over numerous passes would be costly and time-consuming, therefore they intended to avoid having to do that.


Fortunately for them everything favoured their plans. The Greeks had concentrated the majority of their forces to the northwest of their country in southern Albania, as we've noted, in their resolution to grapple with the hated Italians.


Now one may recall that the main passage over the Pindus is at Metsovo, called the Katara Pass. In order to get from their positions in Epirus back to the plains of Thessaly the Greeks had to traverse difficult mountain paths leading south to the Katara and Grevena Passes. Alternatively they could strike east to the pass over Mount Verno, between Florina and Lake Prespa, the Pisoderi. South of that lay the Kleisoura Pass (not to be confused with the previously mentioned Klisoura Pass in Albania), the Vlasti Pass, dividing Mount Verno from Mount Askio; and the Siatista Pass, dividing Mount Askio from Mount Vourinos.


Any one of them would have taken the Greeks to the southern reaches of the Monastir Gap and the valley of the Aliacmon, and thus to the Sarantoporo and the plains of Thessaly. The Greek positions facing the Italians, and the passes detailed above are all found on map six.


On 6 April, as mentioned previously, German forces crossed the Greek border from Bulgaria and opened the Greek campaign by assaulting the Rupel Gorge.


Of twenty-one Greek divisions, Greek Commander-in-Chief Alexandros Papagos only detached six divisions to watch the so-called Metaxas Line that ran from the Struma to the the Mesta just east of Mount Lekanis. But these gave stiff resistance and the Germans were unable to break through the well-fortified Greek positions.


Having already anticipated this outcome, more German forces had meanwhile pushed west through Yugoslav Macedonia, turning sharply south along the Vardar to outflank the Greek left, trapping the six divisions of the Greek Second Army between the Vardar and the Mesta. By the 9th the Greek Second Army had surrendered to the Germans who had encircled them, which is depicted on map seven.


Though Greece had been invaded by Germany, and had indeed by long aware of German preparations in Bulgaria, Papagos in Albania now refused to budge, even after the capitulation of the Second Army. He did not even admit that retreat was necessary until a week after the first German forces had crossed the border, the first Greeks beginning to withdraw from Albania on the 13th.


By then it was too late. The Germans were pouring through the Monastir Gap to encircle the Greek First Army of fifteen divisions as they had done to the Second Army. The British forces sent to help Greece plugged the gap as best they could, as the Greeks refused to heed reason. Though the British generals were aware of the danger to the Monastir Gap, Papagos and the Greeks remained oblivious to their peril.


On the 9th of April the Germans took Florina and closed the Pisoderi Pass. On the 10th the British attempting to defend Klidi by way of the Klidi Pass were defeated by superior numbers and pushed south. On the 13th the Germans defeated the British at Ptolemaida, forcing them to withdraw to Kozani. On the 14th the Germans reached Kozani.


The same day as the British had withdrawn to Kozani, Papagos as last ordered a retreat from Albania. But that night and into the next morning a few regiments from the Greek 20th Infantry Division were defeated in Kleisoura Pass, and that window of escape was slammed shut. On the 15th the Greek 35th Infantry Division was driven out of the Vlasti Pass.


Later on the 14th, the Germans attempted to cross the Aliacmon, but were repulsed by stiff British resistance. Nonetheless on the 13th Wilson had decided to withdraw to Thermopylae, and by the 19th the British had withdrawn the last of their forces from the north by the Vale of Tempe, after a sharp action there on the 18th. On the 20th the Germans took Larissa, and on the 21st captured the port of Volos.


By then it was all over. On the 16th the Germans were in Siatista, the Greeks now had little hope of linking with the British, and had only one way left through which they could obtain supplies or slip the noose being drawn around their necks, the Katara Pass.


Racing southwest along the main road from Kozani, the Germans reached Metsovo on the 18th, before the Greeks could come up in force. Pushing the weak detachments in the pass aside, the Germans pushed on to Ioannina, which they took on the 19th.


With the British already withdrawn from the plains of Thessaly, and the Germans flooding into that plain, the Greeks had no hope of escaping save by their own power. As the Germans brought up more forces to secure Metsovo, a Greek breakout was increasingly unlikely.


Realising that the game was up, Papagos, after some final attempts to break through, surrendered nearly the entire Greek Army, designated the Army of Epirus, on 23 April. These movements are displayed on map eight.


When news of the Greek surrender reached Wilson at Thermopylae, he ordered an immediate evacuation of all British troops from Greece, leaving behind a rear guard to slow the German advance through the Hot Gates. On the 24th the Germans attacked the British near the hallowed tomb of Leonidas and were repulsed with heavy losses. Nonetheless the British continued their withdrawal, and by the 27th the pursuing Germans entered the now undefended Athens.


Before they had entered Athens, on the 25th, the Germans attempted to capture the bridges over the Corinthian Canal using airborne forces as they had done in Holland, Belgium, Norway, Denmark, and France. These failed, however. The British managed to blow the bridges, and since the Corinthian Canal has walls nearly three-hundred metres in height, this effectively ended German hopes of reaching the Morea by way of the isthmus for the time being.


To circumvent this, German forces moving along the west side of the Pindus south from Ioannina reached the Gulf of Corinth at Lepanto, where the combined fleets of Spain and Italy defeated the Turks once and for all in 1571, and Missolonghi, from which they crossed by sea to Patras on the night of the 27th. On the morning of the 28th the canal was seized, and by the 29th they had reached the Gulf of Messenia moving rapidly against little resistance, for by that time the British were all but gone. On the 30th the last of the British forces evacuated from the Morea and the campaign was effectively over.


So, a few interesting points to touch upon. Even the small-scale badly outnumbered British Expeditionary Force was able to cause considerable damage and to delay the Germans at successive chokepoints, most notably at Thermopylae where two brigades held up the German advance for over a day and retired in good order. And again at the Corinthian Canal, which was held for nearly three days by only skeleton formations. If the Greek Army had still been around to defend these positions, developments may have gone far differently.


That they were not is the other point needing to be examined. The Greeks in their mad insistence to relinquish a foot of soil to the Italians doomed themselves and their country in a spectacular and almost inconceivable manner.


The Greeks were blinded by their contempt for Italy. As Hitler invaded Yugoslavia and German forces raced towards the Greek border, British General Sir Henry Maitland "Jumbo" Wilson pleaded with Alexandros Papagos to retreat from his advanced line in Albania to take up a better position. Papagos refused, arguing that a retreat would destroy Greek morale. Wilson attributed this failure of Papagos to see his plight to a "fetishistic obsession to yield not an inch of ground to the Italians." In order to assuage their pride in the contest with Italy, the Greeks allowed themselves to be destroyed by Germany.


To make matters worse, the Greeks had put too much faith in their Yugoslavian ally. They had anticipated a German attack from Bulgaria, against which they were well provided for with the Metaxas Line. With their main force covering the Albanian border, they seemed to have been in a strong position. The British under Wilson were less sanguine, however, and warned of the Germans moving through Yugoslavia, which the Greeks, unbelievably, did not heed. The Germans moving through Yugoslav Macedonia severed the Second Army's line of communications by rushing down the valley of the Vardar, while at the same time other Germans pushed down the Monastir Gap to cut those of the First Army.


In fact, the Greek Army was deployed in two remote theatres with an enormous gap between them, and into this gap poured the Germans just as they had done in the Ardennes in 1940.


Despite this development, and the surrender of the Second Army on the 9th, Papagos stubbornly refused to withdraw. By the time he had finally decided to retreat, the Germans had already taken the Kleisoura Pass, and the next day they were to enter Kozani.


14 April was the critical moment of the campaign, the British at that point had no further hope of keeping in communication with Papagos or of preventing the Germans from reaching the plains of Thessaly. Having acheived that, moving much more quickly than the Greeks against minimal resistance due to Papagos's ill-judged delay, the Germans placed themselves between the British and the Greeks. Furthermore, they placed themselves between the Greeks and their lines of supply, together with their only route of escape.


Given the rugged terrain of Epirus, the Greeks travelling mostly by foot and mule could not hope to win a race against the motorised Germans speeding across much flatter ground. Additionally, this was the worst theatre to have been caught in for the Greeks, because it had the one coast controlled by the Italian Navy.


The British based on Souda Bay in Crete, and more distantly on Alexandria in Egypt, together with the Greek Navy at Salamis, could ensure the control of the Aegean and the Gulf of Corinth. But on the northwestern coast the only Greek base was at Preveza on the Gulf of Ambracia. This is too distant to control the coast of Epirus, and too inadequate to shelter capital ships, so the British could operate there, which was dangerous anyway because of the swarms of Axis aircraft in nearby Apulia.


This gave a clear field to the Italians moored nearby at Taranto. An emergency evacuation like Dunkirk, or the British withdrawal from Greece herself, was out of the question for the Greeks in Epirus. They and their British allies had no fleets that could contest the seas with the Italians so close by.


Accordingly the Italians were exceptionally useful for the Germans in this campaign. The Italian fleet prevented any escape by sea of the Greek First Army, and the Italian forces pinned the main Greek army in position while the Germans worked around its right flank. Obviously, flanking manoeuvres are only useful when the enemy is incapable of facing them on account of other forces engaging his attention in front.


Not surprisingly, therefore, by the time the lead elements of the slow non-mechanised Greek Army reached the Katara Pass they found the Germans had already arrived. With the capture of that pass, the Greeks could no longer escape. They were trapped in Epirus until they starved to death or surrendered. Realising that further resistance was pointless, Papagos capitulated the Greek Army.


Incredibly, the Greeks did not seriously contest any of the passes that so admirably defended their country as they had wisely done in 1897. There were no Greeks to stop the Germans from crossing the Sarantaporo or the Vale of Tempe, there were no Greeks at Thermopylae even, these extremely defensible passes were instead defended by precious few British forces who were only seeking to delay the Germans long enough for their comrades to evacuate by sea.


Even so, the Germans found forcing them to be very difficult. They found defeating the much more numerous and seemingly more formidable Greeks to be hardly difficult at all. In fact the main Greek Army did not fight a single engagement with the main German column. The Germans defeated the Greeks without being required to seriously engage them in battle.


With the main Greek Army conveniently obliging the Germans' own strategy, they allowed themselves to be trapped and destroyed in Epirus while the rest of their country was entirely undefended. They left meagre British forces to prevent the Germans from reaching Thessaly, and to defend Attica and the Morea. These were entirely inadequate for such a task, and were quickly severed from the Greeks who were only in contact by way of the road from Ioannina to Kozani, which had already been cut on the 14th.


Without criticising Papagos too much, as he was an experienced and determined commander who fought with great success against the Italians, it is clear that his priorities were entirely skewered. Albania and Epirus were strategically and economically worthless. There was no reason for the Greeks to insist on defending them, especially since this would place them in grave risk of being isolated and eliminated.


If the Greeks had instead listened to Wilson's advice and had withdrawn in good order immediately after the Germans crossed the frontier, they may have reached the plains of Thessaly long before the Germans were able to encircle them. Finding the British forces there, the Greeks may have been able to hold the passes of Sarantaporo, Katara, and Tempe for a very long time. And if forced to yield them, then the Greeks could retire in good order south across Thessaly to form a new line at Domokos, and the Phourka, and Thermopyle. The Germans would find taking the Hot Gates against the entire Greek Army a much more formidable task than forcing them against a couple brigades, which even that they found difficult to do.


Instead of utilising their favourable terrain, exploiting the advantages of their fleet, and ensuring that they could fall back upon their lines of communication to offer a much more dogged and intractable resistance, the Greeks chose to remain in a remote geographically inaccessible region in the one sea dominated by their adversaries and served by only two roads that were both cut within four days of each other.


The Greek campaign of 1941 thus presents a total contrast with that of 1897. In 1897 the Turks merely pushed the Greeks onto their lines of communication and into new defensive positions. In 1941 the Germans flew right past the Greek Army to cut its arteries and kill it before it even had a chance to react. It was a display of genius taking rapid and effective advantage of an enemy's faulty dispositions made on account of misguided sentimental reasons.


Papagos ought to have been more worried about successfully defending his people from the fury of the German invaders rather than in proving the superior valour of the Greeks over that of the Italians. All the more so since he allowed the Italians to pin him in place, and though the Greeks gave them a hell of a drubbing, Papagos and his generals were forced to swallow the bitter humiliation of capitulating to the Italians and leaving their country to the mercy of the despised Mussolini in the end anyway.


After the war the generals and the government were heavily criticised for their conduct, though Papagos remained personally popular. Above all the Greeks were said to have been ashamed that it was British forces defending Thermopylae and not Greek forces, as this sacred soil is something of a national redoubt filled with nostalgic glory for the Greeks. But by the time the Germans reached the Hot Gates, there was no Greek Army left, it had surrendered in its entirety the day before, and in the mountains of Albania nowhere near Themopylae. It is a tragic illustration of consequences involved in clinging desperately to obtuse emotions.


To conclude, however, it does not seem that the Greeks were faced with overwhelming superiority. The Germans deployed some 600,000 men in Greece, which was not excessively superior to the Greeks' nearly 500,000 and some 60,000 British. If the Greeks had held narrow passes the number of Germans that could actually engage them would be much more limited, leaving the opposing forces in direct contact about equal. This would have been exceptionally difficult for the Germans to defeat in such circumstances.


Furthermore, the mountainous topography of Greece was unfavourable for mechanised warfare. The Germans would not have been able to utilise their superior mobility to outflank their enemies as their enemies' flanks would be covered by inaccessible mountains. Greek weakness in armour therefore would have been only a marginal disadvantage.


Curiously, the Greeks made no attempt to evacuate the Greek Second Army from Macedonia, though they could easily have done so. If the entire Greek Army was concentrated on the Aegean coast, the Greeks would have been able to move it rapidly by sea, allowing them to retreat swiftly and effectively from the Germans.


Forcing the Isthmus of Corinth would have been an herculean task for the Germans, as the height of the canal's walls precludes any possibility of pontoons, and bridges are conspicuous and easily targeted. Plus, if they were blown by an artillery shell while Germans were on them, those Germans would fall to their deaths. Though the Germans seized Salamis and the primary Greek naval facilities, the Greeks might easily have joined the British at Souda Bay in Crete, relying on the British facilities at Alexandria. Rotating out of Souda the Greeks and British together could have prevented any German attempts to cross the Gulf of Corinth without much difficulty, and could use Patras to deflect any attempts by the Italian fleet to ferry them.


Seizing the Peloponnesus with airborne troops was impossible. The only other option that would have been available to the Germans was to take Crete with airborne troops and thus force the British and Greek fleets to withdraw from the Aegean. Once that was done they could have crossed the Gulf of Corinth to outflank the isthmus by sea. They may or may not have been able to achieve this, but if the Germans failed on Crete there could be little chance of them ever conquering the Morea. In that case the topography of Greece would have frustrated even the Wehrmacht and would have vindicated the policy of Churchill, but the Greeks themselves forfeited this prospect in a gross dereliction of their duties. Hopefully their successors will have learned better. - Kaiser