The Nicholas General Staff Academy greeted its officers with its usual strictness.
The tall corridors were almost empty. Maps of European borders, operational diagrams, and old portraits of generals hung on the walls. Cold morning light fell through the windows.
Skoropadskyi walked calmly down the corridor.
Several officers standing near a window noticed him and exchanged glances.
—"Is that Skoropadskyi?"
—"The same one… the St. George Cross for Mukden."
—"They say he covered the retreat of a division."
—"Cavalry."
Skoropadskyi pretended not to hear.
For him this place was not a place of glory.
It was a place of study.
In the lecture hall officers were already gathering. Some were turning the pages of their notebooks, others studied the map hanging on the wall.
It showed Manchuria.
Railway lines.
Army positions.
Directions of offensives.
A few minutes later the instructor entered.
The elderly general placed a folder of papers on the table and looked around the room.
—"Gentlemen officers, today we will continue our analysis of the experience of the last war."
He walked to the map.
—"The Russo-Japanese War showed one important thing."
The general paused.
—"The next war will be a war of industry."
Several officers raised their heads.
—"Mass armies."
He moved his hand along the map.
—"Millions of soldiers."
He pointed to a diagram of fortifications.
—"Artillery."
—"Machine guns."
—"Railways."
The general turned back toward the officers.
—"Cavalry is still important. But the decisive role will belong to infantry and overwhelming firepower."
One of the officers asked:
—"General, do you believe cavalry will lose its importance?"
The general shook his head.
—"No."
He pointed to the map.
—"Cavalry will simply perform different tasks."
—"Reconnaissance."
—"Maneuver."
—"Strikes against the enemy's rear."
He paused briefly.
—"But frontal attacks against machine guns will be extremely costly."
The room grew quiet.
Skoropadskyi listened silently.
He had already seen this on the battlefield.
After the lecture the officers were given maps.
—"Before you is a fortified position," the general said. "Your task is to capture it."
The officers began discussing the problem.
—"A frontal assault."
—"A rapid attack."
—"Two battalions in the center."
—"Artillery support."
The general listened calmly.
Then he looked at Skoropadskyi.
—"And what would you suggest, Colonel?"
Skoropadskyi stepped toward the map.
For a moment he studied the diagram in silence.
Trenches.
Machine-gun positions.
Approaches to the fortifications.
—"Artillery preparation."
He traced a line across the map with his finger.
—"Then a strike on the flank."
Several officers exchanged glances.
—"Why not the center?" one of them asked.
Skoropadskyi replied calmly.
—"Because the center is already waiting for the attack."
He pointed to the diagram.
—"The machine guns are there."
The room fell silent.
The general nodded.
—"You have faced something like this before?"
—"Yes."
The next day the officers were taken to the training ground.
An autumn wind pushed dust across the field. On a distant hill earthen fortifications had been built.
Trenches.
Machine-gun nests.
Barbed wire.
Below them were observation positions.
The officers took their places.
Soon the first artillery shot rang out.
The shell struck the slope of the hill.
Earth flew into the air.
A few seconds later the battery opened fire.
The roar spread across the field.
Shells fell around the fortifications.
Then the infantry began to move.
At first slowly.
Then faster.
A battalion of soldiers advanced across the field.
The line of skirmishers stretched wider.
Flashes appeared along the fortifications.
Machine guns opened fire.
Even from the observation position it was clear that the attack was slowing.
Soldiers dropped to the ground.
Some tried to advance in short rushes.
But the fire was too heavy.
The officers remained silent.
After some time the commander of the exercise raised a flag.
—"Stop."
He looked at the officers.
—"Result of the attack."
A short pause.
—"Half the battalion conditionally destroyed."
Several officers exchanged glances.
Skoropadskyi continued watching the field.
At that moment a familiar voice sounded nearby.
—"It has been a long time, Pavlo Petrovych."
He turned.
Handziuk stood before him.
—"Yes. Since the war," Skoropadskyi said.
They shook hands.
For a moment they silently watched the field.
—"It seems the next war will be worse," Handziuk said.
—"It seems so."
—"Now everything is decided by machine guns and artillery."
Skoropadskyi nodded.
—"Yes. But logistics will be even more important."
Handziuk looked at him.
—"Why?"
—"Because the armies will be enormous."
Skoropadskyi pointed toward the railway line in the distance.
—"Without railways armies like that cannot fight."
Handziuk thought for a moment.
—"Then the war will depend on factories."
—"Yes."
—"And on the economy."
—"And on the economy."
That evening the officers gathered in a small room of the academy.
The conversation was more relaxed.
Someone spoke about Germany.
—"The Germans are expanding their army."
Another added:
—"France is building new fortifications."
—"And the Balkans?"
—"The Balkans have always been the powder keg of Europe."
Handziuk looked at the map of Europe.
—"If a great war begins… it will be long."
Skoropadskyi said nothing.
Late that night he remained alone in the classroom.
Maps lay on the table.
Operational diagrams.
Reports.
He slowly unfolded the map of Europe.
Armies were growing.
Factories were being built.
Empires were preparing.
Skoropadskyi looked at the map for a long time.
He had already seen war.
But the next one would be different.
Once wars were fought by nobles.
Now they would be fought by entire states.
And the coming war would push this to its absolute limit.
Because it would be a world war.