REDUX: Place In The Sun: What If Italy Joined The Central Powers?

[Wedgekree]

Jutland can maybe turn out a bit better for the Germans - though that depends if the Royal Navy has deployed ships to the Med or not and that the Grand Fleet in turn can't sortie out at the strength they did. But the followup could be that the RN doesn't feel like they can send reinforcements down to the Med and have to keep them there in case the Kaiserlichemarine goes out to play again - which it could if only as the Kaiser could want glory and they just need to bloody the Brits one more time to knock them out of the war.

Also what possibly happens in general is the Americans are a bit warier on giving the Briitsh more unlimited loans. They could want more collateral, they could limit amounts.. Sure, there would be a lot of 'good money after bad' but if the Americans see the Entente as losing their thoughts would be less 'prop them up' and more 'the more money we lend, the worse off we'll be when they lose'. So they're going to want to limit financial losses more than they did historically. Even historically the American bankers were nearing thier limits before the Americans joined the war.

If the Entente is close to breaking in 1917 there's no reason for Wilson to push hard to get them in - or for Germany to do the Zimmerman telegram if they feel supremely confident in their approach. They don't see themselves as having to push for unrestricted submarine warfare, which was a big contributor to American entry. Plus Italian American support on top of German in American politics should put a bit more pressure on the 'stay neutral' policy. Wilson is a heavy Anglophile so while he'll do whatever he can to 'help' the Entente and lookt eh other way, he'll have a lot more issue spushing things through Congress.

Brusilov Offensive I feel like starts off historically going very well - unless the Russians are focused on all out attack everywhere and he doesn't get as much support as he did as men are being thrown across the entire line . The difference is the Austro-Hungarians have a slightly more intact army and so does a bit better, plus they have higher morale - and a lot more reserves they can put into the front line. They have no other commitments so they can put all their forces into it. Plus the Germans can give more support, and even the Bulgarians. Plus there's the chance of Romania going to be opportunistic when they have the chance, and the Ottomans deciding to try and take Baku.

I think Brusilov starts off well if only due tot he amount of prep he has and his tactical innovations. But it doesn't go far, inflict the casualties it did historically, or break the AH army. Nor does he get necessarily the amount of material support/men he did historically. So I think it peters out more quickly and doesn't go as far as it did.

Also I think the Med stays mostly a stalemate. The Italians and the French basically both have roughly parity in capital ships (when it comes to pre dreadnaughts). Neither side is going to want to do anything really risky. The Italians have already given themselves the glory they want and the Admiral in charge of the navy seems like he doesn't want to make another big push for things nro is there the political pressure to do so. The AH may deploy a bit more forwards and aggressively but you won't remotely see the two countries coordinating or having joint command, which is what it would take for them to do well.

Something you could see that the Germans at least considered is them shipping submarines dissassembled along the rail lines to Italy, having them put back together, and gonig raiding. This would only have a limited number of subs and range (they'r enot going to have a lot of spare parts, maintenance will be limited, and likely Italian torpedos aren't compatible with German ones so everything has to be shipped). But it's a gimmicky thing that the Kaiser might want to try.

The Germans might also get experimental and approve of some of the weirder schemes that they were considering with the idea the Entente is on the fence, so they can try to take them out. SEnding a zeppelin to Von Lettow full of equipment is good at least for morale purposes - it might let him be more aggressive. Having it fly based out of Italy rather than AH might make it easier to travel.

 

[EvilPug007]

This is a vivid narrate of the Third Battle of Ypres in 1916. I liked seeing the perspectives of figures like Rawlinson and Haig. Something I would like to add is perhaps you could explore the emotions and challenges the soldiers faced on the battlefield more, as it might add a substantial touch to the personality of the narrative.
Also, delving deeper into the long-term implications of the military strategies employed could enhance the story-telling narrative aspect. Specifically the question of how these strategies shape the course of the battle and impact the broader war effort?
My final question: how did the results influence public morale and government decisions? Seeing as you touch on the state of Britain's allies and the home front, I would love to hear more about the societal and political significance of these outcomes.

 

[Kaiser Wilhelm the Tenth]

This is a vivid narrate of the Third Battle of Ypres in 1916. I liked seeing the perspectives of figures like Rawlinson and Haig. Something I would like to add is perhaps you could explore the emotions and challenges the soldiers faced on the battlefield more, as it might add a substantial touch to the personality of the narrative.
Also, delving deeper into the long-term implications of the military strategies employed could enhance the story-telling narrative aspect. Specifically the question of how these strategies shape the course of the battle and impact the broader war effort?
My final question: how did the results influence public morale and government decisions? Seeing as you touch on the state of Britain's allies and the home front, I would love to hear more about the societal and political significance of these outcomes.

-The "Pierre Soilon" character is meant to provide an ordinary soldier's view of Bardonecchia and Verdun: a British equivalent might come in handy once the BEF starts getting dislodged from the Continent in 1917. I try to be as "detached" as possible when writing but agree that the human element is too important to leave out- witness the power struggles within the French High Command and how those put Nivelle in power.

-The longer term aspects will become evident as the story unfolds: Part IV will cover the collapse of France.

-Given that British morale survived the Somme and the actual Third Battle of Ypres in OTL- both of which were worse than what's described here- Asquith's Government is in no mood to seek peace yet. David Lloyd George will take his place, as happened in OTL, in January 1917, and his government will sign a cease-fire with the Central Powers to keep the British Expeditionary Force from being destroyed on the Continent.

 

[1962strat]

Given that British morale survived the Somme and the actual Third Battle of Ypres in OTL- both of which were worse than what's described here- Asquith's Government is in no mood to seek peace yet. David Lloyd George will take his place, as happened in OTL, in January 1917, and his government will sign a cease-fire with the Central Powers to keep the British Expeditionary Force from being destroyed on the Continent.

Oh, so the plan in which the British stayed in the war in some sort of cross channel standoff changed?

 

[Kaiser Wilhelm the Tenth]

Oh, so the plan in which the British stayed in the war in some sort of cross channel standoff changed?

I think it would make more sense for the UK to sign a cease-fire, at least with Germany, if it thought it couldn't get the BEF home safe: the actual peace process would still take months which would be a "standoff". I don't see a repeat of OTL 1940 with the British forced out of the Continent- that would require a massive campaign on the part of the Germans, and it would be vastly easier for the British just to pull out and send the men back home.

EDIT: I should add that my plans for this TL do change while I'm writing: I get new ideas which make sense and work them in, even if they don't align perfectly with what I've said before in the comments. Those reflect my thoughts at the time and are always subject to change.

 

[1962strat]

I think it would make more sense for the UK to sign a cease-fire, at least with Germany, if it thought it couldn't get the BEF home safe: the actual peace process would still take months which would be a "standoff". I don't see a repeat of OTL 1940 with the British forced out of the Continent- that would require a massive campaign on the part of the Germans, and it would be vastly easier for the British just to pull out and send the men back home.

EDIT: I should add that my plans for this TL do change while I'm writing: I get new ideas which make sense and work them in, even if they don't align perfectly with what I've said before in the comments. Those reflect my thoughts at the time and are always subject to change.

Oh, agree with you, just asking. That probably leads to a different end of the war in the east, so looking forward to see how that plays out.

 

[prester.john208]

I think it would make more sense for the UK to sign a cease-fire, at least with Germany, if it thought it couldn't get the BEF home safe: the actual peace process would still take months which would be a "standoff". I don't see a repeat of OTL 1940 with the British forced out of the Continent- that would require a massive campaign on the part of the Germans, and it would be vastly easier for the British just to pull out and send the men back home.

EDIT: I should add that my plans for this TL do change while I'm writing: I get new ideas which make sense and work them in, even if they don't align perfectly with what I've said before in the comments. Those reflect my thoughts at the time and are always subject to change.

Sir John French was half ready to go back home after the opening battles at Mons/Charleroi and Le Cateau, where the BEF lost a large percentage of its forces.

Battle of Mons
Ger: 1st Army
Brit: BEF
Casualties
German 2,000,
British 1,800

The British/French withdrawal allowed the Germans to besiege Namur with 3 Corps: XI, Guards Reserve and VII Reserve
XI and Guards Reserve go to Eastern Front after Namur falls) and VII Reserve besieges Maubauge.

Situation on 23 August after the French/German Battle of Charleroi fought adjacent to the Battle of Mons

Battle of LeCateau
Ger: 23 infantry battalions, 18 cavalry regiments (9 at half strength), 6 divisional cavalry squadrons, 162 guns (27 batteries), 84 machine-guns
Brit: 40 infantry battalions, 12 cavalry regiments, 2 divisional cavalry squadrons, 246 guns (41 batteries), c. 80 machine-guns
Casualties
Ger: 2,900
Brit: 7,812 (700 killed, 2,600 captured) & 38 guns

Situation on 26 August

BEF Heading South fast. The units to the left of the BEF:

6th Group of Reserve Divisions (New organization)

• 81st, 82, 84, 88 French Territorial Divisions, (ages 37 to 43 years)
• 61, 62 Reserve Divisions (ages 27 to 36)

6th Army (New organization)

• Cavalry Corps Sordet: 1,3,5 Cavalry Divisions
• VII Corps: 14 Infantry Division, 55, 56, 63 Reserve Divisions

Maubauge besieged by VII Reserve Corps
In blue behind the German lines.

 

[Reisen Storm]

That same day, Haig restored General Sir Hubert Plumer to command of the Second Army, which he had held since June 1915. Plumer spent the next year as Haig's favourite, maintaining that Third Ypres would have been a success had he been in command, until Falkenhayn poisoned his chalice the next summer.

You can't leave us with such cliffhanger.

 

[Kaiser Wilhelm the Tenth]

Chapter XXVIII​

The Road to Nice​

Hindsight makes it clear that the collapse of Nice was inevitable. Geography and defensive weaponry were with the French, yet they could only give a secondary front so much. Had Germany not unleashed the Verdun Offensive, France could have held the front indefinitely, but Joffre could not ignore the crisis on the Meuse. 1871 and 1914 had both shown Germany's ability to tear the heart out of France: only British- and as some claimed, divine- intervention had kept them out of Paris two years ago. Germany had the strongest military in Europe; while the Regia Marina had defied expectations, the Italian Army remained lacklustre. More important, Germany had the will to crush France while Italy was only at war due to alliance politics. The mincing machine at Verdun showed the lengths to which Falkenhayn would go to destroy la Nation, and the German vision for peace- even if the French Government did not know all the details- doubtless envisioned breaking France under the boot-heel. Italy may have sought victory, but they lacked the strength or the conviction to be a mortal danger.

All of this was true, yet none of it did the defenders of the Alps much good. Italy had fifty divisions spread from the Swiss border to the Mediterranean, with ten more holding a portion of the Western Front. After their push at Menton in autumn 1915 ended in failure, the French adopted a defensive posture, seeking to minimise the forces they let the Italians tie down. Forty divisions had manned the Alpine Front before February 1916; Nivelle had stripped twelve away in late May to liberate Verdun. All came from Savoy, the quietest and least strategic sector of the front, yet everyone felt their loss. Standard doctrine dictated a 3:1 manpower ratio in the attacker's favour for a strategic-level offensive to succeed: it was now possible, however unlikely, that the Italians could mass such strength at Nice. Joffre spread the remaining twenty-eight divisions out as best he could, conscious all the while that he might have to pull more out for Verdun. Ten divisions- organised into the Eighth Army, dubbed l'Armee de Nice- secured their namesake city. Fourteen formed the Ninth Army- Joffre hoped that keeping so many divisions under one command would make it harder for Paris to strip units away for Verdun. Of those fourteen Mont Blanc, Modane (opposite the site of the Bardonecchia Offensive), La Condamine, and Tende each received one: all were mountain towns with large enough roads to support an Italian offensive, while another ten guarded the remaining stretches of front. An "independent corps" sat at Grenoble, ready to plug any holes the Italians tore in the line. Everyone knew that if Nivelle's push to retake Verdun failed, they would head north and the Alps would have to fend for themselves.

General Victor Cordonnier commanded the Eighth Army after his predecessor had resigned following the failed Menton Offensive. Cordonnier had seen fierce fighting during the war's opening weeks, including in Alsace and at the Battle of the Marne, where he had been awarded the la Legion d'honneur for conspicuous bravery. Everyone spoke highly of his character and military talent, and Joffre wrote to him after the war to apologise for having placed him on "such a misery of a front... where natural aptitude withered away." Cordonnier accepted the thankless task and resolved not to let the enemy into Nice. Joffre simplified his task in early June when he promised not to withdraw any Eighth Army units until the Ninth had been "depleted to the strength of a corps." Cordonnier harboured no offensive ambitions: his task was not to lose.

Cordonnier did not want to turn Nice into another Verdun but calculated that the Italians lacked the stamina for such a fight. Italian forces had advanced just under four miles since war erupted last October: even excluding the detatched towns of Cannes and Antibes, Nice was ten miles wide and nearly as deep. The Eighth Army knew every inch of the town and would have the full support of the locals: they would also enjoy communication and supply lines to the rest of France, while the Italians would have to bring everything in over conquered broken terrain. The Eighth Army would try and stop the Italians in the six miles between the frontline and the city limits, but if that failed, they would sacrifice themselves in house-to-house fighting. La Marine Nationale could keep the Regia Marina away- there was no way anyone would allow a repeat of the Battle of Cannes- and the Italian Army could grind itself to pieces. Operation Gericht had been on about the same scale as a hypothetical Italian offensive towards Nice, against a numerically equal but far less prepared French force, and it had required more divisions than existed in the Italian Army. Was his unit a fair price to pay for all but eliminating Italy's ability to make war on land? Cordonnier wished to God there was a better solution, but was ready to make the sacrifice- for which Joseph Joffre praised him after the war in glowing terms.

Across the snowy trenches and past the ruins of Menton, the Italians were making changes of their own. Just as Joseph Joffre blamed Petain for not delivering presentable results on the battlefield, Luigi Cadorna turned on Roberto Brusati, denouncing him before Prime Minister Sonnino and petitioning the King to expel Brusati from the Army- a request which would have gone through barring the intervention of Brusati's brother Ugo, the royal aide-de-camp. Nothing could save Roberto's career, but he was only removed from active duty and given an honourable discharge at the war's end. This was, of course, a ploy to distract the kingdom- to say nothing of the Germans- from Cadorna's failure. Berlin and Rome had placed all of their hopes on cracking the French with two separate offensives. The war should have been won by now, and someone else had to be the scapegoat if Cadorna sought to keep his job.

Major General Count Guglielmo Pecori Giraldi now rose to the top. Five years old when the Kingdom of Italy was proclaimed, he became an artillery lieutenant at twenty-one and reached the General Staff within ten years. He served with distinction against the Turks and retired in 1912, but was recalled during the summer of 1915, taking command of a division, then a corps which fought at Bardonecchia. Cadorna noted Giraldi's "offensive instincts"- a welcome contrast with the uncertain Brusati- and gave him command of a corps during Operation Aquila. Giraldi spent much of February 1916 arguing with Brusati over tactics, insisting that with more reinforcements he could force his unit through. Brusati reported Giraldi to the General Staff for "insubordination", which ended up doing him a favour. By the end of spring 1916, Brusati's reputation had reached rock-bottom and any man who'd built up a reputation for disagreeing with him, at minimum, merited examination.

Cadorna summoned Giraldi to Rome at the end of April and asked him a simple question: given all the men and materiel Italy had to offer, how would he go about taking Nice? Had Giraldi not known, the supremo would have thrown him out and killed his career on the spot. As it was, Giraldi had paid close attention to the success of Falkenhayn's mincing machine in contrast to Brusati's failures. Rather than charging once more at Menton, Giraldi proposed seizing Mont Bego, a peak nine thousand feet above sea level, and turning it into a fortified strongpoint from which artillery could rain on the French, and from which the infantry could cut the roads leading to Nice. The French would have no choice but to counterattack, whereupon Italian artillery could cut them to pieces. This would require superiority in men and materiel, as well as the ability to supply the guns for months at a time, but it seemed the best option. Kill enough Frenchmen and Nice would fall "like a ripe apple."

The supremo analysed the map of Nice for a few moments before ducking out of his office, returning a few minutes later with a metal box. Inside, Giraldi found a full general's insignia. Cadorna's adjutant drafted the orders placing Giraldi in command of the Italian First Army, while the new general leapt on the first train to Genoa, from where he would travel to the front. Giraldi spent the next few weeks deep in study. He could read the same map as Cordonnier and understood that fighting for Nice house-to-house would not be practical. The best-case scenarios gave him twenty-five divisions to work with: over half of the Italian Army's forces on the main front. A tremendous asset, but an equal risk: failure would doom Italy's ability to make war.

Giraldi did not need long to find his target: it towered over the battlefield, visible to all on both sides. Mont Agel overlooked the front and the independent city-state of Monaco, which had become a haven for spies, refugees, and those seeking to avoid conscription, all the while defending its neutrality like a maiden shielding her honour. Politics forbade occupying the city-state, nor would doing so have conferred any military value. The great mountain mattered because it overlooked the main road heading from Nice to the prewar border: if the Italians could secure it, they would have perfect artillery cover as they marched west, which the French would bleed in droves to retake.

As May turned into June, Giraldi sensed weakness and communicated his plan to Cadorna: encouragement was not long in coming. Twenty Italian divisions concentrated on an extremely narrow front: only five kilometres inland. The goal was not to seize as much territory as possible, but rather to blow a hole in the enemy lines which the French would have no choice but to plug with warm bodies, exposing themselves to fire from the newly-seized Mont Agel. Taking the mountain as quickly as possible was crucial if the operation was to succeed. If, instead of a lightning seizure, his men faced a long struggle on the slopes, he would have no choice but to abort the offensive. Mont Agel was far too important to leave in the rear of his advancing army, and the longer his men spent fighting to take it, the more reinforcements the French could bring in. (It is doubtful whether Giraldi understood just how hard-pressed the French were; no army in 1916 could fight two great battles of attrition at once.) He turned to two elite units to ensure victory on the mountain.

Far from the Nineteenth Century relic their detractors claimed, the Bersaglieri were a deadly unit whose training and equipment rivalled that found in any European elite infantry. They originated as light, mobile skirmishers- a role they had filled with distinction during the Crimean War and Wars of Unification- and had evolved into mountain specialists, a role which demanded far more skill than peasant conscripts could provide. Twelve regiments of Bersaglieri had existed prior to October 1915, and several more had been raised since while others were in training. Thus far, the war had been something of a disappointment for these elite men, who had not fought at Bardonecchia or during Operation Aquila. Two regiments saw brief action against particularly nasty Serbian bandits in Albania, which their commanders dismissed as "target practice, with the occasional so-and-so shooting back", while two more fought against the French push from Menton in the war's opening weeks. Most of the Bersaglieri had spent the last nine months training in the mountains near the Austro-Hungarian border: a brutal regimen which killed three men from exhaustion, but lacking in the honour and glory due to men of their stature.

By contrast, the Alpini had seen ample action. They had been formed after Unification to defend the French and Austro-Hungarian borders: everyone had spent the last four decades preparing for war, the only question being with whom. Fighting against the Turks in Libya had given their officers some experience leading men in action, but everyone knew that "the real war" would be a far greater challenge. As soon as word came, eight regiments of Alpini infantry, plus two attached artillery regiments went to work. Alpini formed "the tip of the spear" at Bardonecchia and during Operation Aquila- those defeats served as lessons rather than discouragement. Damaged Alpini units were rotated off of the line and their officers took charge of fresh men. Unlike the peasants thrown into the Piedmontese trenches, every Alpini wanted to fight and was confident beyond a doubt that they could win if they fought hard and had the right leaders. Few made any attempt to mute their scorn for Roberto Brusati- one man pointed out that he, at the age of twenty-one, had fought in more battles than the septuagenarian general- and all were eager to see just how far Giraldi could take them.

Brave though these units were, Giraldi wanted someone else at the tip of the spear. After nine months as "advisers" and "trainers"- a role many considered to be beneath. their dignity- it was time for the Bavarian Alpenkorps to enter the field. There was a political component to this: ever since the debacle of Operation Aquila back in February, the Alpenkorps had been "operationally independent": allied to the Italians but not subordinate to any of their commanders. Colonel Krafft von Dellmensingen actually lacked the authority to decide whether or not to participate in this newest offensive: his political masters in Berlin had to choose for him. Fortunately, Falkenhayn was willing to give Giraldi a chance. He had removed the Alpenkorps from the Italian command structure to keep Roberto Brusati from throwing it away in a fruitless offensive. Brusati's fall did not make Italy a peer in tactics or leadership overnight, but it did get the worst offender out of the way. Falkenhayn still disliked Luigi Cadorna and distrusted the Italian General Staff, but had to admit that, unlike Brusati, Giraldi had devised a sensible plan, and had the personal experience to know what he was doing and the resources to pull it off. Keeping the Alpenkorps behind the lines could make the difference between taking Nice or not.

Von Dellmensingen received his orders on June 10th: effective immediately, his corps was subordinate to Giraldi and the First Army; he was to entrain within forty-eight hours and head for Nice. The Alpenkorps took up position in what had been the town of St. Agnes before the war, just north of Menton and in the shadow of the great mountain. There, von Dellmensingen's subordinates analysed the mountain and prepared to attack. Bersaglieri and Alpini officers visited his headquarters in a wine-cellar and devised a simple plan for taking the mountain. First Army had six regiments of Bersaglieri and eight of Alpini: half would go into this attack while the other half would be held in reserve. Regular Italian infantry would attack the village of Beausoleil south of the mountain and pass Monaco, to tie the enemy down and secure the flanks. The Alpini would sweep south of the mountain while the Bersaglieri swept north. The 15,000-strong Alpenkorps, meanwhile, would charge up the mountain, its light artillery providing cover fire. Such a density of force- almost 25,000 men on a three-mile front- would break the defenders of Mont Agel, after which the remaining Bersaglieri and Alpini could turn a puncture in the French lines into a gaping hole. All of the First Army's strength would come rushing through and Nice would be doomed.

General Cordonnier knew the blow was imminent. Stretched though La Duxieme Bureau was by the summer of 1916, its agents still kept an eye on events across the Alps. One would have to be blind not to have seen the First Army draw every available unit towards it as if via magnetic force. When the Bersaglieri and Alpini concentrated at Nice, it told Cordonnier everything he needed to know. On June 3rd, he sent a telegram to Paris informing them that a fresh enemy offensive was likely "within seven to twenty-one days". Briand asked Joffre if there was any way Cordonnier could strike first, to which the great general allegedly replied, "my dear Prime Minister, to understand what General Cordonnier has at his disposal, envision the state of the Second Army at Verdun, and then relegate it to backwater status without priority in supply or reinforcements. Now picture in your mind such a force being thrown against tens of thousands of fresh enemies." News that the Alpenkorps was moving into position only made the situation more dire. Service on the Western Front had shown Cordonnier just how vicious an enemy the Germans were, and he had only fought regular units, not these elite mountain warriors. The one consolation was that the Central Powers had made little attempt at concealing their movements: had the blow caught Cordonnier by surprise, the enemy could have broken through on the first day. As it was, he had time to reinforce Mont Agel and warn Paris of what was coming: Joseph Joffre was less flippant on hearing this news.

Operation Garibaldi began on June 14th with a bombardment of French lines. Just as during Operation Aquila, the rising sun blinded the French while illuminating their positions for the Italo-German gunners. Twenty Italian divisions went over the top south of Mont Agel at 0430 hours two days later, while the special forces went into action around the mountain. The French were as prepared for the attack as they could be. Cordonnier had decided at the eleventh hour (quite literally; he conferred with his subordinate officers forty-five minutes before the enemy bombardment started) not to let his men be trapped in the corridor between Mont Agel and Nice. Cordonnier had ten divisions at his disposal, eight of which guarded the approaches to the city. If the mountain fell early on, or if force of impact on the first day threatened to shatter them, he would pull them back and fight for Nice house-to-house. On that first day, despite being outnumbered more than two to one, they somehow held on. Machine-guns, barbed wire, and broken terrain kept them going. The French lacked the elan of the war's first weeks- no one desired to throw themselves at the enemy- but fatalism achieved a similar effect. They fought all the harder because they knew they had nothing to lose: victory meant survival, defeat meant captivity at best, more likely death. By the end of June 16th, the main line was creaky but remained steady.

None of the heroism these men showed on that first day, alas, meant anything. Not even the reinforced defenders of Mont Agel had much chance against the force arrayed against them. For the first time in this war, a plan transferred from the general's map room to the battlefield with minimal complications. The French fought well and could not have asked for a better piece of terrain to defend, but could only do so much against the overwhelming odds. German troops hacked their way up Mont Agel, braving fire and boulders falling, in many cases, from directly overhead. Even a tiny ledge with room for only one or two men was an invaluable prize: it might let a sniper pick off a troublesome opposite number, or a mortar crew fire on unsuspecting infantry.

In the end, the fall of Mont Agel was as much psychological as physical. Just as, during the American Civil War, Robert E. Lee had persuaded a much larger Northern force to surrender by riding his cavalry around their flanks to create the appearance of outnumbering them, the sight of Italian forces streaming to the left and right as the Germans attacked terrified the French. The Alpenkorps was smaller than the name suggested, and while its soldiers were better man-for-man, they also faced a very challenging tactical situation. Had the French been willing to hold on, they might have broken the elite Germans. As it was, the colonel in charge of Mont Agel- whose "headquarters" consisted of a wide rock pathway under a ledge- was convinced the Italians were about to sweep up the mountain from the other side. Fighting would only condemn more his men- to say nothing of himself- to death.

The actual surrender was vaguely humorous. No runner would have survived the journey down the mountain to parley with the enemy, and no one atop Mont Agel had a white flag. This forced the men to improvise, and they stitched bandages together to make their own flag. Unfortunately, they were a thousand feet above sea level, and no one on the ground could even make it out. Realising this problem, the French found more bandages and even stole white garments from dead soldiers; the flag was still indistinguishable from the snowy mountain peaks. One man suggested firing blank artillery rounds in Morse Code to spell out "Nous surrendrons!", but the colonel shot that idea down; the Germans would not recognise the crude code or even the French language. The only way to get them to notice, the colonel decided, was for all of the men to stop firing and instead shout "we surrender!"

By this point it was dusk, and the Germans were winding down their attacks for the day. When the sun rose over the mountains once more and the Alpenkorps began to advance, all of their opposition seemed to have melted away. No shots rang out, none of their men fell over, and there were no enemy soldiers in sight. Everyone suspected a trap, but for once they were wrong. Cries of "we surrender!" rang out across the ridges and gulleys, as Frenchmen emerged from their natural cover, hands raised, rifles nowhere to be found. A second lieutenant explained the situation to a German captain, who sent a runner down the mountain to headquarters. He lacked the authority to accept a full French surrender- only von Dellmensingen could do that- but was happy to cease fire for the time being. Both sides dragged their dead from the spots where they'd fallen, often in some gulley hidden by snow, and tended to wounded men who might otherwise have died. Many of these men had fallen into snow or on ice and had developed frostbite; in some cases, the men who found them doubted they could make it to an aid station and performed on-the-spot amputations with a bayonet dipped in boiling water. A nineteenth-century measure to be sure- and incredibly dangerous given modern knowledge of germs which these men lacked- but it may have saved one or two lives.

Von Dellmensingen was all too happy to accept the surrender. The runner returned to the base of Mont Agel at nine in the morning and began the arduous climb; an hour later, he saluted the captain and handed him the orders for every man on the mountain. Every Frenchman atop Mont Agel was to be disarmed and handed over to the Italians for captivity. The Alpenkorps was an expeditionary force without the strength to look after prisoners in any great numbers. German soldiers would march them down the mountain and a further two and a half miles to the village of Cabrolles, at which point the Italians would take over. From there, the Alpenkorps and Arditi would set their artillery up on the summit, and rain fire on the retreating Frenchmen.

France's lines south of the mountain cracked not twenty-four hours later. During the afternoon of June 18th, an Italian company burst into an enemy trench in the village of Dondea, subduing the handful of defenders with rifle and bayonet. Their captain made sure his flanks were clear and called for more reinforcements from regimental headquarters before going over the top once more- and hitting empty air. No machine-gun or mortar fire rose to challenge the two hundred Italians, who entered the neighbouring village of Figuiera and fell upon a French supply dump. Not until they interrogated the quartermaster did they understand what had just happened: the only French forces between here and Nice proper were some sentries on the road. The captain sent a runner back to regimental headquarters, with instructions to pass it on to Division and then to General Giraldi: he had broken through. That runner had not even made it a mile before he encountered more Italians surging ahead, a joy in their eyes quite alien to the fighting front. After giving the recognition password of the day, he asked what was going on: one soldier replied that a whole division was about to come surging in through this gap, with more to come after that. Division had already identified the breakthrough and passed word up the chain of command: the French were about to have a very unpleasant day indeed.

Italian troops pushed back the detritus of French forces that afternoon with unthinkable ease. Poilus cut off from their units, who had seen their friends and commanding officers die, knew there was no chance of making a stand this side of Nice. The war ceased to be about holding the Italians out of the city and became a race to get there before shellfire or bullets killed you. Nice became the promised land- large and defensible, with thirty-two thousand fresh men to help hold the line. Of course, as soon as they entered the promised land, they would have to turn around and fight once more: there was, after all, nowhere else to fall back.

By the day's end the Italians had driven the French back over three miles, past the city-state of Monaco (which remained steadfastly neutral despite being surrounded by Italian soldiers) and into the villages of Cap d'Ail and La Turbie. Nothing like this had ever happened before on the Alpine Front, nor in the West since the end of 1914. Giraldi had proven that a breakthrough was possible given tactical surprise, artillery superiority, and an overwhelming weight of men. Von Dellmensingen claimed all the credit for himself in his memoirs, as did, to a lesser extent, the Alpini commander. Certainly, the day's results had more to do with the elite forces and superiority in strength than any genius on Giraldi's part- but he was the man in charge and so received the credit.

Fighting resumed even before the sun had risen. The Italians had advanced five miles yesterday, taking them just under halfway to Nice. Of course, yesterday they had enjoyed the element of surprise and hit the French hard: today would be just another slog through the mountains. Except the French had no desire to make a stand at Cap d'Ail or La Turbie. The latter was still in range of artillery atop Mont Agel, but more importantly, neither town had any military value apart from being one more stop in the road to Nice. When the broken French forces turned around to face the enemy, they would take fierce casualties. Better to do it, as Cordonnier had planned, in a large enough city to suck in the enemy and with reinforcements close by. Rear-guard units fought delaying actions as tens of thousands of their countrymen marched west. The retreat was no longer chaotic: officers had taken charge and were marching the men in organized formations back towards Nice. It was not a rout, but neither was it far off.

June 19th saw the Italians clear the last six miles to Nice; that night, they saw church spires glimmering in the moonlight. Cordonnier had decided not to defend the suburbs- Villefrance, Beaulieu, even La Trinite- to keep his force as intact as possible. Some civilians had fled these areas back in October 1915, while others had done so in the months since Operation Aquila, but there had been no prospect of leaving once this newest offensive opened. Some feared that the Italians might brutalise the population as German soldiers allegedly had in Belgium, but nothing of the sort took place. Four days of fighting had exhausted the Italians, who knew everything they had done until now was just a prelude to the real battle. Their men stole whatever they could find- wines, cheeses, and hams- but did not loot the villages or commit atrocities.

General Giraldi ordered his men to halt at dawn the next day. This won him no praise from Cadorna, who finally had the breakthrough for which he'd waited nine months and was in no mood to squander it, but Giraldi believed it was the right call. Nice, he explained, was full of unknowns- and what little he could deduce left him wary. Verdun had consumed almost fifty German divisions in its streets for six weeks; the collapse of la Voie Sacree had done as much to doom it as German strength. Victory on the Meuse had cost Germany countless thousands of dead and left them in no position to hit the French again. Cadorna retorted that Falkenhayn had eventually conquered Verdun- making himself an overnight hero- and there was no reason he could not do the same. Giraldi explained that a battle for Nice under these conditions would make Verdun seem easy. True, the French had already taken a pounding, whereas they had been fresh and Verdun, and yes, the Italian advances over the past several days had carried them to the city limits, while Falkenhayn had fought his way through the forts surrounding Verdun.

Past that, everything worked in France's favour. Italy had attacked with twenty divisions, not counting the elite forces, while the French had eight, plus whatever reserves they could throw into the battle. (It would have come as no surprise that the last two divisions had set off the moment Giraldi's offensive began and were currently sitting in Nice.) A two-to-one ratio seemed more than enough, but at Verdun, eight French divisions had held their own against sixty German divisions for far longer than anyone could have deemed possible. Falkenhayn, Giraldi reminded Cadorna, had expected the French to fold within a few days. His overwhelming strength had eventually won the day- though even now, Nivelle was throwing men into the fire to retake the city- but he should not have been put in that position. If Cadorna banked on a quick victory and lost, Italy would have far fewer resources to contain the damage than Germany. Geography was another factor: the Germans had been able to hit Verdun from the east and the west, whereas his force had approached Nice from due east. There was a risk that, instead of throwing more men into Nice, the French might counterattack south and try to cut the Italians off. Giraldi had two divisions stretched out over the newly conquered territory to minimise the risk, but the risk still bothered him. If the bulk of his force became entangled in Nice and was then cut off and surrounded, it would doom not just Giraldi's career but Italy's war effort.

Giraldi's final point was that neither he nor Cadorna had initially planned to fight for Nice. The whole point of taking Mont Agel was to force the French infantry to fight in places where the Italians had total artillery supremacy. That plan had become a victim of its own success, as the Italians advanced out of range of the guns stationed there. Just as Nivelle was now feeding men into Falkenhayn's grinder to retake Verdun, Giraldi wanted the French to come to him. Going into Nice would let the enemy dictate the terms of battle- and when had that ever benefitted anyone?

The great irony in all this is that Giraldi's thoughts ran parallel with Cordonnier's. Had the Italians fought for Nice as the Germans had for Verdun, both sides would have been slaughtered, but the French would have emerged holding the key ground. Cadorna could have had Giraldi's head- he was, after all, going back on his promise to take the city- but even the great supremo had to acknowledge his subordinate's logic. Instead of preparing a charge into the city, Italian soldiers entrenched once more. Many cursed their superiors for denying them victory after they had come so close after so long, but a few understood. They might not have seen Giraldi's balance-sheets or been able to draw analogies with Verdun, but instinct told them that fighting a house-to-house battle was a bad idea.

So the Italians settled in for a siege. Given time, they could wear Cordonnier and his ten divisions down and then the city would be theirs. Just for once, the Italian Army would achieve a measure of glory in this endless war. Even as they huddled in their trenches, the great city so near yet so far, they sensed that its collapse was inevitable... one day.

 

[weasel_airlift]

I'd be expecting panic in Paris. First Verdun, now this...There may actually be some serious suggestions of making peace.

 

[Kaiser Wilhelm the Tenth]

I'd be expecting panic in Paris. First Verdun, now this...There may actually be some serious suggestions of making peace.

We are fast approaching that point, but two more things need to go wrong first: the Mutinies, and Germany’s 1917 Spring Offensive.

 

[weasel_airlift]

We are fast approaching that point, but two more things need to go wrong first: the Mutinies, and Germany’s 1917 Spring Offensive.

Mutinies I can see, but the Spring Offensive OTL was in response to the American entry. Your TL of course, but with things going better, I see no reason for ham-handed diplomacy to encourage the Americans to enter.

Now, conditions are ripe for panic among the upper leadership. Panic leads to indecisiveness and hasty decisions....

 

[Kaiser Wilhelm the Tenth]

Mutinies I can see, but the Spring Offensive OTL was in response to the American entry. Your TL of course, but with things going better, I see no reason for ham-handed diplomacy to encourage the Americans to enter.

Now, conditions are ripe for panic among the upper leadership. Panic leads to indecisiveness and hasty decisions....

The Spring Offensive of 1917 will be the next step in the evolution of Falkenhayn's strategy to knock the French out of the war: their Army is almost broken, and this will be the stroke that finishes them off and convinces the political leadership to sue for peace.

By this point in the war, the United States has zero desire to enter and Zimmerman is not going to send his Telegram. So the offensive will be born out of opportunity, not of desperation, if that makes sense.

 

[Dragonboy]

We are fast approaching that point, but two more things need to go wrong first: the Mutinies, and Germany’s 1917 Spring Offensive.

Amazing as always! wish you a happy new year and may the french suffer and the germans, austrians and italians achieve glory

 

[Kaiser Wilhelm the Tenth]

Amazing as always! wish you a happy new year and may the french suffer and the germans, austrians and italians achieve glory

Happy New Year to you and yours.
It won't be fun for the Entente.

 

[avernite]

Nice (pun intended) update. And good to see what happens when competent commanders respond to the crises on the battlefield in ways that make perfect sense - for once.

Of course it helps that Cordonnier and Giraldi both have sensible options.

 

[Dragonboy]

Happy New Year to you and yours.
It won't be fun for the Entente.

It sure won't be. And wishing the best specially for blessed karl

 

[Lisowczycy]

Can't France just draft the next round of the conscription class a year earlier in an attempt to replace all the manpower lost. Things are bleak and I would think someone in the military or government be pushing to toss into what they can get.

 

[Kaiser Wilhelm the Tenth]

Can't France just draft the next round of the conscription class a year earlier in an attempt to replace all the manpower lost. Things are bleak and I would think someone in the military or government be pushing to toss into what they can get.

That’s what will get them through the winter of 1916-17 but there are several problems which this brings:

-These conscription classes aren’t going to be very large. OTL France’s manpower problems were bad enough, and pulling these people in at ages 16-17 means they’ll be less mentally and physically developed. Students, apprentices, etc, who’ve avoided the draft up to this point are going in first, but every medical student who dies trying to retake Verdun is one doctor the state won’t have five or ten years down the road. I once read in a book about the Pacific War that Japan began “mortgaging its future” to try and match the Americans man for man once the war turned against them in 1943-44. France will do the same here.

-Once the Mutinies start over the summer, taking tens of thousands of 16-17 year olds who only want to get home and see the leadership as a bigger threat than the Germans will become VERY risky. No officer wants to get fragged by a kid who belongs on a Secondary School sports team.

 

[Drizzt]

That’s what will get them through the winter of 1916-17 but there are several problems which this brings:

SNIP

All true, but that doesn't mean the French leadership won't do it anyway. They certainly will not be thinking about mutiny problems, but expecting them to flock to the colours enthusiastically.