The Prussian-German Origins and Application of Mission Command
Introduction
Part of the problem for any military absorbing or adopting a foreign concept or methodology is that the significance and meaning are consciously or unconsciously filtered organisationally and culturally to become at best a hybrid of the original. Imported ideas can also clash with existing culture, while challenging long-established norms, resulting in compromises that pervert the original intention. The Anglo-American world’s widespread adoption of the German military concept of Auftragstaktik, or ‘mission command’ as it is better known, stands as a case in point. The term itself is superficially simple to grasp but, as with any complex methodology, the devil is in the detail and here varying interpretations and applied usage quickly enter a nebulous realm of assumption and supposition leading authors and practitioners into a world of choose-your-own-adventure. The intention of this article is threefold. First it establishes the problem with some of the literature on the subject. Then it considers the 19th century origins and meaning of the term in Prussian/German history. Finally, it sets out the research pertaining to the applied use of the concept across German military history (1870–1945).
Gunther E Rothenberg suggested that Auftragstaktik was ‘a command method stressing decentralised initiative within an overall strategic framework’.[1] As with any good definition, at this level Auftragstaktik is made to appear rather simple in theory. This quality has led many theorists, academics and military professionals to extrapolate meanings based on rather simplistic and often highly subjective interpretations of what the term means in detail. Importantly, unpacking longstanding confusion around the term’s meaning is less about identifying which conceptual understanding is ‘right’ or ‘wrong’—any such attempt risks assuming my own mastery of the detail and thereby replicating the problem. For the purposes of this article, it is sufficient to state that authors are dealing with a highly complex concept, perhaps more so than many realise and certainly more than even the best definitions suggest. Indeed, the mass of conflicting accounts seeking to explain Auftragstaktik are themselves evidence of the broad, multidimensional construct that underwrites and complicates our understanding. The term inhabits a structural/technical domain that might well be set out on a command chart, but in parallel its success depends upon cultural characteristics that cannot be so easily quantified or represented. As we shall see, another issue in understanding the concept, especially for those seeking a clear reference point, is that the German military’s own engagement with Auftragstaktik was anything but simple and clear cut. The concept was initially as ambiguous as it was radical, meaning it was by no means universally valued or uniformly implemented, when implemented at all. Rather, throughout German military history the concept has evolved and developed, sometimes differently in parallel areas of the army, making commentary on its characteristics and usage appear even more confused and opaque.
At the most elementary level Auftragstaktik is a composite of two German words. There is the ‘Auftrag’, which is the ‘purpose and objective’ (Zweck und Ziel) and may be most simply framed by the question ‘What should one do?’. The ‘taktik’ is in some ways more problematic. While the application of this term is perhaps best understood as ‘the manner of execution being left to the commander’, the concept is clearly not a ‘tactic’ as we understand it in English terminology. Instead, it is more a leadership method.[2] Importantly, Auftragstaktik is by no means limited to the tactical level of command; it was always intended to function in parallel as an operational concept.
While authors can generally agree on a basic meaning of Auftragstaktik, attempting anything deeper is particularly challenging. Indeed, any such effort is inevitably so problematic that Stephan Leistenschneider has referred to it as ‘the “battle” over Auftragstaktik’ and noted ‘unfortunately, too many claims are made without it being possible to determine from where these claims derive their significance’.[3] Marco Sigg has referred to the same phenomenon as ‘interpretation anarchy’.[4] Antulio J Echevarria has singled out authors in military publications as being especially problematic, observing:
The term Auftragstaktik has been greatly abused in military publications in recent years. Some analysts and historians have upheld it as the key to the German army’s long record of success on the battlefield; others maintain that it had no ‘official’ existence.[5]
Clearly, there is a lot to unpack.
The first use of the term ‘Auftragstaktik’ appeared in German military publications during the final decade of the 19th century. Complicating our understanding of its origins, the concept had not always been identified by a single term. Other variants included Auftragsverfahren (task system) and Auftragskampf (battle task), although how precisely each individual author understood and applied these terms no doubt introduced more than a few shades of grey. As a result, just as the precise parameters of the concept evoke debate and confusion today for the Anglo-American world, this same lack of clarity was reflected in the genesis of the term. Not surprisingly, therefore, the establishment of Auftragstaktik was controversial for the German Imperial Army and by no means represented an ‘organic’ or ‘self-evident’ development of the Prussian military tradition.[6] Nor was it a direct outcome of the Scharnhorst military reforms of the early 19th century, although the enlightenment this engendered provided a starting point for future intellectual innovation.[7] Even after its conception in the latter half of the century, the German military establishment fought a bitter ‘paper war’ over its merits and application, which according to Leistenschneider rumbled on and failed to find resolution until well into the early part of the 20th century.[8]
There have been three major studies written about Auftragstaktik in German, none of which have subsequently appeared in English translation. The first, dating from 1993, written by Dirk Oetting, is the least useful, owing to its discursive approach and lack of theoretical engagement. As Oetting argued, Auftragstaktik was ‘too complex’ to be adapted to ‘easy-to-use formulas’, so his methodological approach made little attempt to distinguish or differentiate its use or meaning.[9] The second study, by Leistenschneider, which appeared in 2001, was the first truly scholarly treatment of the subject. It concentrated on establishing the origins of and early conceptual debates on what would become known as Auftragstaktik.[10] The success of this research allowed the term to be disentangled from earlier German military techniques and regulations and, as his is the seminal work in the field, Leistenschneider’s conclusions will be set out below. The final work to be explored is from Marco Sigg and dates from 2014.[11] Sigg’s work is also groundbreaking, as he sought to trace the applied use of the concept across German military history from the German wars of unification to the end of World War II. His conclusions offer some fascinating, and sometimes unexpected, perspectives on how Auftragstaktik was understood (or misunderstood) in the German military context.
Auftragstaktik in the 19th Century
The genesis of what would eventually be known as Auftragstaktik can be traced to 1858, when Prince William took over the regency from the frail Frederick William IV, marking the beginning of Prussia’s so-called ‘New Era’. The prince immediately instigated a sweeping set of military reforms, which included the appointment of the relatively junior Major-General Albrecht von Roon to head the reorganisation of the army. Roon was a product of the General War School in Berlin (later the Prussian Military Academy) and became a noted military scholar with a passion for efficiency and modernisation. Roon’s interest was not just how the army functioned as an institution but how it behaved. In particular, he displayed an interest in peacetime training and sought to break down the army’s rigidity by favouring a spirit of independence in both thought and deed.
The transformation of the army began in earnest when the Prince Regent issued his Cabinet Order of 16 December 1858, which was later referred to as the ‘Magna Charta of Independence’. Interestingly from a modern standpoint, the emphasis on freedom and autonomy were directly linked to one’s enjoyment and wellbeing in the service, which was recognised as a priority. The Cabinet Order read in part:
The inevitable consequence of premature intervention by superiors is that the desire, love and joy of service are not encouraged but prevented, that the necessary training of independence and the development of individuality become impossible, that finally the superiors themselves fall into one-sidedness and, instead of training for higher conditions, remain in the position they held in their last position. It is the duty of the generals ... to vigorously oppose this evil.[12]
The adoption and implementation of this new edict was of course essential for its success, and one must be clear that it was a radical doctrine for its time, especially given the prevailing attitudes in some quarters of the army. Success became dependent upon progressive-minded officers willing to embrace the ethos and spirit of independence. For this there could be no better test case than Prince Friedrich Karl of Prussia, who 15 years earlier had been tutored by Roon and was now the commanding general of the III Army Corps. Friedrich Karl was a dedicated commander whose interest was nothing less than preparing his corps for war. He nevertheless quickly recognised the virtue inherent in the new edict and strove to see it implemented. According to his instructions, the aim was to nurture officers with ‘self-activity, decisiveness, acting on one’s own responsibility and deliberation’. Implementing the order required an unfamiliar degree of initiative from subordinates, but they seem to have responded positively to the enfranchisement and validation of their abilities.
Friedrich Karl took special interest in studying the new system. He committed his thoughts to paper in an essay titled ‘On the origin and development of the Prussian officer spirit, its manifestations and effects’. Here he lauded the autonomy of his subordinates:
In general, it seems to me ... that an unusual sense of independence from above and an acceptance of responsibility has developed in the Prussian officer corps, like in no other army.
He recognised this as a profound change and a ‘peculiarity of the Prussian officer corps’ which distinguished it on the European stage. ‘Where else would you be allowed to do that, but that’s how it is.’ Friedrich Karl’s essay also included a somewhat cryptic reference to one of the more debated concepts in the Prussian military—the ability to question or even disobey orders from above. As Friedrich Karl wrote:
Just as a staff officer once calmly carried out an order he had received, a high-ranking general said to him: ‘Sir, the king made you a staff officer so that they should know when to disobey.’
The precise circumstances of this are not explained, but for a 19th century army, especially one with Prussia’s pedigree, the idea that this was so casually recounted suggests a remarkable faith in the system that gave rise to it.
Indeed, Friedrich Karl believed that the Roon reforms led to general improvement in the army, and singled out the psychological impact of fostering independence:
This mindset has also had an undeniable influence on our battle tactics. The Prussian officers cannot tolerate being restricted by rules and schemes, as in Russia, Austria and England ... As things stand, we allow the individual’s genius to run freer.[13]
Importantly, the extent to which the reforms fostered independence is best measured in the context of the extremely rigid system out of which they arose, a system which in many respects was still in evidence into the 1860s. Prussian officers were not free spirits making their own choices; their training, traditions and insular culture predetermined much of their thinking, leaving a relatively narrow scope for discretionary behaviour. The new edict introduced radical liberalisation that, as Friedrich Karl observed, singled out the Prussian army.
Introduction of the Magna Charta of Independence was particularly timely. The widespread use of breech-loading rifles, which greatly increased the lethality of the modern battlefield, forced the 19th century transition from the column to the rifle squadron. It also underlined the importance of the Prussian army’s new-found independence, especially in the middle and lower echelons of command. The testing ground, of course, would be the wars of German unification (1864, 1866 and 1870–71), where relatively young officers demonstrated unprecedented initiative and, in many cases, made a decisive contribution to the combat success of the Prussian forces. On more than a few occasions it was observed that personal initiative compensated for mistakes made by higher leadership. Moreover, it was noted that junior officers tended not to wait long for orders from above, especially if neighbouring units were perceived to be in need of support.[14]
Yet while there was clear evidence of success, the Prussian army was far from a model of consistency in its efforts to embrace the new philosophy. In some documented instances, individual commanders had their attempts at initiative actively supressed by higher command, while in other cases officers had to be encouraged to act independently. An example of the nascent development of such ideas is Lieutenant-General August von Goeben writing on the eve of the battle of Gravelotte in August 1870: ‘while it is often said: No step [forward] without an order! I keep telling my subordinate generals: Act independently!’.[15] Even with consistent Prussian victories and the example and advocacy of the great Field Marshal Helmuth von Moltke himself, the willingness to grant subordinates independence, or for them to act on it when authorised, was far from universal.[16] This speaks to the cultural challenge that would become an essential building block of the future Auftragstaktik concept. Change had to be ‘grown’ from within the army through doctrine, training and shared practice. This was important not only to avoid radically divergent responses but to build trust and cohesion within the command.[17] After all, the concept was never intended to be truly ‘free’; obedience to the intent had to be maintained at all costs. Thus, those concerned about the endurance of military discipline sometimes assumed a level of independence that extended beyond the stated purpose, which was never intended.
Concerns around the erosion of military discipline were voiced among the so-called ‘normal-tacticians’ such as General of Infantry Wilhelm von Scherff and Lieutenant-General Albert von Boguslawski. Such questioning was not without merit, as the army’s late 19th century professional education and culture found itself caught in the rather indistinct duality of requiring both obedience and freedom. Indeed, by World War II, once Auftragstaktik had become firmly established, it was not unusual for higher-level officers to pursue their own operational preferences and decisions on the fabricated basis of following their orders ‘to destroy the enemy’.[18] Such flagrant abuses, while by no means the only concern of the normal-tacticians, were foreseen as a threat to the army’s cohesion, especially given the complexity of 19th century infantry attacks.[19] Accordingly, the normal-tacticians argued that the scope of discretion within army regulations should be drastically curtailed. Their strong preference was for much more standardised and formulaic procedures to be made binding. One adherent made the case:
With the most excellent senior management, the most intelligent—and ideally trained sub-commanders, the troops would ultimately achieve little if the unit is not used to certain form[ations] and fire control is not firmly regulated ... But in peacetime this knowledge must be created and developed according to precisely defined rules, and the troops must be trained uniformly in the most appropriate forms throughout the entire army.[20]
Only within these narrow confines could any scope for individuality on the part of the officers be tolerated.
From the point of view of the 19th century normal-tacticians, they were not rejecting lower-level initiative because they could not accept change. It was simply that they could not reconcile the complexity of modern tactical manoeuvre with the proposal to decentralise its implementation. They feared that longstanding received wisdom about bringing mass and firepower to bear on the enemy was being jeopardised. This was not an unreasonable concern and reflects the split over the army’s ability to maintain core functionality. While the progressives sought to enhance tactical and operational responses, the conservatives saw threats to an already highly refined system. The problem for both sides was that a hybrid solution was recognised as completely infeasible, yet that was the default resulting from the rival positions and lack of resolution.
In response to continued debate around the new reforms, the army’s field manual of 1888 brooked no further compromise. It committed the army unambiguously to the principles originally proposed by Roon.[21] This enshrined new training and educational practices, as well as a new philosophical approach to fostering a cohesive command culture. One manifestation of this was the commitment to root out the ingrained hazing endemic to the cadet schools of the late 19th century. As Jorg Muth observed:
Auftragstaktik had been introduced into the army and, to employ it efficiently, independent thinking and individual responsibility had to be fostered in a new officer type … The important connection between the introduction of Auftragstaktik and the education reforms for officers’ training in the Prussian/German Army has so far been overlooked in historiography.[22]
The official change in the German army’s training and regulations did not forestall further intensive rounds of debate over what was now being explicitly referred to as Auftragstaktik. However, the debate was not strong enough to change the army’s direction. It was only with the experiences of the Boer War (1899–1902) and the Russo-Japanese War (1904–1905), which the Germans intensively studied, that Auftragstaktik finally prevailed in the theoretical debate and was again incorporated into the army drill regulations for 1906.[23] More research needs to be undertaken to measure the precise role Auftragstaktik played in Germany’s campaigns of World War I, but one recent study suggests that the demands of trench warfare on the Western Front diminished the practice from 1917 onward.[24]
Auftragstaktik in the 20th Century
Having explored aspects of Leistenschneider’s research to establish the origins of Auftragstaktik, it is useful to switch the focus to Sigg’s complementary study to discover what the applied experience was and what conclusions we may draw. Not surprisingly, the foundations of German military leadership in the 20th century reflected Clausewitz’s theoretical understanding of warfare as well as the imposing example of Moltke the Elder. The Prussian-German military school of thought understood war as a contingent and complex phenomenon. As a result, there could be no scientific ‘rules’, which is why operations could be planned but their actual course could not be determined in advance. Friction was just too great a factor to overcome, yet this realisation also formed the basis for thinking about military leadership. If war was characterised by chaos and chance, the purpose of military leadership was less to ‘control’ warfare than to ‘direct’ it. This perspective drove a need for leaders who could act quickly and effectively, often with less than perfect situational awareness. In concrete terms, the Prussian-German military began assessing officer candidates against a range of factors such as boldness, courage, energy, responsibility and determination. These attributes were also promoted as educational goals in officer training and formed a preferred set of character and personality traits. The value of personal initiative was viewed as crucial to the performance of the entire military organisation; the emphasis on the individual and his priority over technical aspects was foundational to the Prussian-German military school of thought. As Sigg observed: ‘Auftragstaktik must be understood against this background.’[25]
To maintain its command system in the chaos of battle, the German military established three primary leadership goals. The first simply emphasised the importance of maintaining the ability to lead in war, which underscored the ease with which command and control was interrupted or broke down completely. The second was to champion a system that multiplied one’s own capacity for leadership by devolving responsibility downward and enfranchising opportunities at each level. The third anticipated the advent of friction and sought an organic solution through a culture of instinctive initiative and rapid intervention. Together these objectives were intended to counteract the inevitable gridlock of otherwise rigid command processes and battlefield confusion. Instructively, the Prussian-German emphasis on bold leadership rated passivity or indecision as a more serious mistake than an incorrect action, which meant that doing something was considered less problematic than doing nothing at all.[26]
While Sigg’s research confirmed the priorities of the German military establishment, none of these were especially groundbreaking. Nevertheless, once his study began investigating the behavioural aspect of German military leadership, from the wars of unification through to the world wars, a number of fascinating deductions emerged. Firstly, evidence of Auftragstaktik was consistently polarised in the German military experience. While lower tactical levels of command were under-represented, higher operational levels not only showed evidence of the phenomenon but consistently exploited it to go well beyond the parameters of their orders. To this end Sigg’s research provided some enlightening insights.
While Auftragstaktik had already become an established leadership concept before World War I, this did not forestall a continuing debate that mimicked the old controversy with the ‘normal-tacticians’. Indeed, the discussion took on particular vigour in German military magazines during the interwar period as the balance between uniformity and independence again came into question. The catalyst for this was the emergence of new technologies, especially in radiocommunications, which some argued reduced the friction between command levels and therefore reduced the need for independence. Accordingly, Auftragstaktik remained a contentious subject, not because officers disputed its virtue but because the question was asked whether the problem it was intended to correct still existed to the same extent. Indeed, Sigg’s case study of three German divisions in World War II seemed to confirm that the relative absence of Auftragstaktik at the tactical level stemmed from improvements in communications as well as the widespread embrace of the ‘leadership from the front’ ethos. These together allowed higher levels of command to lead subordinates very closely, providing little scope, or even need, for independent actions.[27] Accordingly, Auftragstaktik—that is, acting independently without prior consultation with a superior—was an exception, not the rule, driven by unforeseen circumstances. As one document from the head of training for a reserve army in 1944 put it: ‘Deviation from the order 5%, adherence to it 95%.’[28]
At the other end of the spectrum, the operational dimension revealed a remarkable insistence upon autonomy and freedom of action, even when this departed from, or even contradicted, the intent of the orders issued. This, Sigg observed, stemmed from an unhealthy culture in the higher echelons that resulted from excessive ambition, deep rivalries, overestimation of individual circumstances, resentment towards superior authorities and a consistent exaggeration of offensive capability. The last factor was a constant in all the operations Sigg examined (and accords with much of my own research into German operations on the Eastern Front).[29] Yet while Sigg observed this egoistical behaviour, what exactly accounted for such a fractured command culture at the higher levels was, he determined, worthy of further research. Sigg’s supposition suggested that it ‘may be due to a special “cavalry” or “tank mentality”’.[30]
Having myself completed a major study of some of Germany’s leading panzer generals in World War II, I see Sigg’s instinct as broadly sound. However, it does not account for the fact that many more of Germany’s generals belonged to the infantry or artillery or were from more minor arms of the army.[31] My own research suggests that, while there was a very distinctive culture within the Panzertruppe, the same should not be assumed for the rest of the army. Instead, the German army as a whole was characterised by a highly aggressive culture that existed on a spectrum and that led to bitter conflicts concerning the conduct of operations among and within different arms of service. Further evidence for this assertion can be found in the level of conflict that occurred between senior commanders within the Panzertruppe, who often fought each other for scarce resources, openly attacked rivals in their reports to higher commands and competed for promotions, medals and public recognition.[32] Thus, it might be said that there was a direct corollary between the arm of service conducting operations and the degree to which Auftragstaktik was effectively achieved at any given time.
High casualties among officers is another factor that Sigg noted was inextricably bound to the German command culture and Auftragstaktik. This was not necessarily a result of Auftragstaktik alone, because it is impossible to separate from the wider culture of risk acceptance and emphasis on forward command within the German army. Instead, the decentralisation of responsibility exposed officers to greater danger.[33] Of course, the calculus was always focused on reaching a decision that, if successful, would save rather than cost lives. However, trained officers were always a precious and finite resource, meaning the implications of a long war without result would increasingly undermine the army’s leadership and performance. A case in point is that only five weeks into Operation Barbarossa the 20th Panzer Division was already reporting officer casualties at a staggering 50 per cent in its infantry brigades, which were noted to be ‘severely exhausted’.[34]
Importantly, 19th century advocates of Auftragstaktik (such as General of Infantry Wilhelm von Blume or General of Infantry Sigismund von Schlichting) warned against exaggerating the principle of independence into an absolute law. Rather, they emphasised the importance of the operational situation. Depending on the circumstance, it might be necessary to restrict the subordinate leaders’ scope for action. The debate was therefore never a binary choice between independence and conformity. Instead the application of Auftragstaktik involved interdependence between different elements to achieve the balance necessary for effective leadership.[35] In this context, Sigg identified that a thin line existed between acting beyond one’s remit and acting independently in the spirit of the intention. This he acknowledged made it hard to superimpose the model of Auftragstaktik onto situations in order to determine what exactly was conformity and where liberties might have been taken. This alluded to the fundamental problem of applying or attributing Auftragstaktik to any given situation.
Ultimately, Sigg concluded that ‘this leadership principle depended far too much on the respective circumstances or the command situation for there to be a generally valid definition for all combat operations’.[36] This assessment mirrors the confusion that remains today over what exactly constitutes mission command. Indeed, it may entitle military professionals to conclude that the unresolved debate is less a reflection of their own failure to understand than a demonstration of the term’s inherent complexity, especially in an ever-changing battlespace. At the very least, we may discard the idea that there was ever a golden age of German Auftragstaktik with an idealised unity of thought and deed. The best that might be said is that Auftragstaktik is in a constant state of tension, oscillating according to battlefield circumstance, the level of command, available communication technologies and the willingness of personalities or command cultures to act or instruct. As Sigg concludes, mixing historical and current leadership principles is problematic, as it threatens to define an older concept by a younger one or, worse still, impose an historical anachronism on a modern force. Rather, the two are best treated as separate entities because they are not the same.
Conclusion
To the German army before 1945, Auftragstaktik was devised exclusively on functional-rational criteria. The focus was solely on the military achievements of troop commanders—that is, increasing military effectiveness. By contrast, the modern Bundeswehr, like the Australian Army, seeks an entirely different social contract through its emphasis on leadership principles that protect and care for its people and insist on accountability for actions. These considerations suggest value-rational criteria built on ethical, legal, political and social aspects that are fundamental to the ethos of and training for command. As Sigg pointed out: ‘For the Bundeswehr, Auftragstaktik is the correct leadership principle primarily because it best corresponds to the image of the “citizen in uniform”.’[37] At the same time, Auftragstaktik may increasingly be defined by a hybrid multinational approach. As Peter Wilson suggested, the increasingly homogenous approach to Western warfare might blur or overstate any national uniqueness. At least in relation to the Bundeswehr, he noted: ‘Although much is sometimes made of the German concept of mission tactics, German forces remain within NATO and European Union multilateral structures and guided by their doctrines.’[38] While there is clearly value in understanding the historical evolution of Germany’s Auftragstaktik, it is less an instructional guide or model for emulation than a complex set of evolving parameters that together determine the independence of command. Like war itself, these are not easily distilled and reproduced, because they are ever changing, but the success of Auftragstaktik will always reflect a common command doctrine, good training and education and a positive culture.
Endnotes
[1] Gunther E Rothenberg, ‘Moltke, Schlieffen, and the Doctrine of Strategic Envelopment’, in Peter Paret (ed.), Makers of Modern Strategy: From Machiavelli to the Nuclear Age (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1986), p. 296.
[2] Marco Sigg, Der Unterführer als Feldherr im Taschenformat: Theorie und Praxis der Auftragstaktik im deutschen Heer 1869 bis 1945 (Paderborn: Ferdinand Schöningh, 2014), pp. 4–5.
[3] Stephan Leistenschneider, Auftragstaktik im preußisch-deutschen Heer 1871 bis 1914 (Hamburg: Verlag E.S. Mittler & Sohn, 2002), pp. 9–10.
[4] Sigg, Der Unterführer als Feldherr im Taschenformat, p. 4.
[5] Antulio J Echevarria, After Clausewitz: German Military Thinkers before the Great War (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 2001), p. 38.
[6] Robert M Citino, who is one of the best-known German military historians in the Anglo-American world, writes of Auftragstaktik as an unbroken tradition running seamlessly through German military history from the 17th century to its end in the Second World War. Robert M Citino, The German Way of War: From the Thirty Years’ War to the Third Reich (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 2005), p. 302.
[7] Leistenschneider, Auftragstaktik im preußisch-deutschen Heer 1871 bis 1914, p. 34.
[8] Stephan Leistenschneider, ‘Die Entwicklung der Auftragstaktik im deutschen Heer und ihre Bedeutung für das deutsche Führungsdenken’, in Gerhard P Groß (ed.), Führungsdenken in europäischen und nordamerikanischen Streitkräften im 19. und 20. Jahrhundert (Hamburg: Mittler, 2001), pp. 177–178, 182.
[9] Dirk W Oetting, Auftragstaktik: Geschichte und Gegenwart einer Führungskonzeption (Frankfurt am Main: Report Verlag, 1993).
[10] Leistenschneider, Auftragstaktik im preußisch-deutschen Heer 1871 bis 1914.
[11] Sigg, Der Unterführer als Feldherr im Taschenformat.
[12] Leistenschneider, Auftragstaktik im preußisch-deutschen Heer 1871 bis 1914, p. 41.
[13] Ibid., pp. 41–42.
[14] Ibid., p. 48.
[15] Ibid., p. 49.
[16] On Moltke’s views see Walter Görlitz, The German General Staff 1657–1945 (New York: Praeger, 1962), p. 76.
[17] Marco Sigg, ‘“Dezisionismus als Denkstil.” Auftragstaktik im preußisch-deutschen Heer 1869 bis 1945’, in Martin Clauss and Christoph Nübel (eds), Militärisches Entscheiden: Voraussetzungen, Prozesse und Pepräsentationen einer Sozialen Praxis von der Antike bis zum 20. Jahrhundert (Frankfurt/New York: Campus Verlag, 2020), pp. 192–198.
[18] The best-known examples of this are the actions of panzer generals in 1940 and 1941, but the behaviour was certainly not limited to these events.
[19] For a good outline of the broader position of the normal-tacticians (referred to as ‘standardized tactics’) see Echevarria, After Clausewitz, pp. 32–38.
[20] Leistenschneider, Auftragstaktik im preußisch-deutschen Heer 1871 bis 1914, p. 66.
[21] Ibid., pp. 145–146; Echevarria, After Clausewitz, pp. 41–42.
[22] Jörg Muth, Command Culture: Officer Education in the U.S. Army and the German Armed Forces, 1901–1940, and the Consequences for World War II (Denton: University of North Texas Press, 2011), p. 183.
[23] Leistenschneider, Auftragstaktik im preußisch-deutschen Heer 1871 bis 1914, p. 146.
[24] Tony Cowan, ‘The Introduction of New German Defensive Tactics 1916–1917’, British Journal for Military History 5, no. 2 (2019): 92, 97–99.
[25] Sigg, Der Unterführer als Feldherr im Taschenformat, pp. 457–458. For an excellent study of these factors in the Wehrmacht see Ulfried Geuter, The Professionalization of Psychology in Nazi Germany (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008).
[26] Bruce Condell and David T Zabecki (eds), On the German Art of War: Truppenführung. German Army Manual for Unit Command in World War II (Mechanicsburg: Stackpole, 2009), p. 19.
[27] Sigg, Der Unterführer als Feldherr im Taschenformat, p. 462. Notably, however, Sigg’s divisions were largely concerned with conducting defensive operations on the Eastern Front in 1942–1943.
[28] Sigg, ‘“Dezisionismus als Denkstil”’, p. 207.
[29] Sigg, Der Unterführer als Feldherr im Taschenformat, pp. 459–460.
[30] Ibid., p. 463.
[31] David Stahel, Hitler’s Panzer Generals: Guderian, Hoepner, Reinhardt and Schmidt Unguarded (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2023).
[32] Ibid.; see especially chapters 3 and 5.
[33] Sigg, Der Unterführer als Feldherr im Taschenformat, p. 462.
[34] David Stahel, Operation Barbarossa and Germany’s Defeat in the East (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), pp. 319, 326.
[35] Although this is in some ways an imperfect example, Field Marshal Günther von Kluge’s direction of Army Group Centre in the winter of 1941–1942 oscillated between rigidly enforcing Hitler’s ‘halt order’ and acting independently to allow retreats and avert disasters. For a detailed exploration see David Stahel, Retreat from Moscow: A New History of Germany’s Winter Campaign, 1941–1942 (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2019).
[36] Sigg, Der Unterführer als Feldherr im Taschenformat, pp. 460–461.
[37] Ibid., p. 6.
[38] Peter H Wilson, Blood and Iron: A Military History of the German-Speaking Peoples since 1500 (Dublin: Allen Lane, 2022), p. 614.
