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The first, sent at five thirty that morning by General Rennenkampf, gave marching orders for the Russian First Army. At last Rennenkampf was on the move again-but instead of turning south to close the pincers by meeting up with the Second Army, he was inexplicably heading west on a line that did not threaten any German forces.
The second message had been sent half an hour later by General Samsonov, the commander of the Russian Second Army. He ordered his 13 and 15 Corps to go after the German XX Corps, which he believed to be in retreat.
"This is astonishing!" said Ludendorff. "How did we get this information?" He looked suspicious, as if Walter might have been deceiving him. Walter had a feeling Ludendorff mistrusted him as a member of the old military aristocracy. "Do we know their codes?" Ludendorff demanded.
"They don't use codes," Walter told him.
"They send orders in clear? For heaven's sake, why?"
"Russian soldiers aren't sufficiently educated to deal with codes," Walter explained. "Our prewar intelligence estimates suggested that there are hardly enough literate men to operate the wireless transmitters. "
"Then why don't they use field telephones? A phone call can't be intercepted. "
"I think they have probably run out of telephone wire. "
Ludendorff had a downturned mouth and a thrusting chin, and he always looked as if he were frowning aggressively. "This couldn't be a trick, could it?"
Walter shook his head. "The idea is inconceivable, sir. The Russians are barely able to organize normal communications. The use of phony wireless signals to deceive the enemy is as far beyond them as flying to the moon. "
Ludendorff bent his balding head over the map on the table in front of him. He was a tireless worker, but he was often afflicted by terrible doubts, and Walter guessed he was driven by fear of failure. Ludendorff put his finger on the map. "Samsonov's 13 and 15 Corps form the center of the Russian line," he said. "If they move forward. . . "
Walter saw immediately what Ludendorff was thinking: the Russians could be drawn into an envelope trap, surrounded on three sides.
Ludendorff said: "On our right we have von François and his I Corps. At our center, Scholtz and the XX Corps, who have fallen back but are not on the run, contrary to what the Russians seem to think. And on our left, but fifty kilometers to the north, we have Mackensen and the XVII Corps. Mackensen is keeping an eye on the northern arm of the Russian pincer, but if those Russians are heading the wrong way perhaps we can ignore them, for the moment, and turn Mackensen south. "
"A classic maneuver," Walter said. It was simple, but he himself had not seen it until Ludendorff pointed it out. That, he thought admiringly, was why Ludendorff was the general.
Ludendorff said: "But it will work only if Rennenkampf and the Russian First Army continue in the wrong direction. "
"You saw the intercept, sir. The Russian orders have gone out. "
"Let's hope Rennenkampf doesn't change his mind. "
{V}
Grigori's battalion had no food, but a wagonload of spades had arrived, so they dug a trench. The men dug in shifts, relieving one another after half an hour, so it did not take long. The result was not very neat, but it would serve.
Earlier that day, Grigori and Isaak and their comrades had overrun a deserted German position, and Grigori had noticed that their trenches had a kind of zigzag at regular intervals, so that you could not see very far along. Lieutenant Tomchak said the zigzag was called a traverse, but he did not know what it was for. He did not order his men to copy the German design. But Grigori felt sure it must have a purpose.
Grigori had not yet fired his rifle. He had heard shooting, rifles and machine guns and artillery, and his unit had taken a good deal of German territory, but so far he had shot at no one, and no one had shot at him. Everywhere 13 Corps went, they found that the Germans had just left.
There was no logic to this. Everything in war was confusion, he was realizing. No one was quite sure where they were or where the enemy was. Two men from Grigori's platoon had been killed, but not by Germans: one had accidentally shot himself in the thigh with his own rifle and bled to death astonishingly quickly, and the other had been trampled by a runaway horse and never recovered consciousness.
They had not seen a cook wagon for days. They had finished their emergency rations, and even the hardtack had run out. None of them had eaten since yesterday morning. After digging the trench, they slept hungry. Fortunately it was summer, so at least they were not cold.
The shooting began at dawn the next day.
It started some distance away to Grigori's left, but he could see clouds of shrapnel burst in the air, and loose earth erupt suddenly where shells landed. He knew he ought to be scared, but he was not. He was hungry, thirsty, tired, aching, and bored, but he was not frightened. He wondered if the Germans felt the same.
There was heavy gunfire on his right, too, some miles to the north, but here it was quiet. "Like the eye of the storm," said David, the Jewish bucket salesman.
Soon enough, orders came to advance. Wearily, they climbed out of their trench and walked forward. "I suppose we should be grateful," Grigori said.
"For what?" Isaak demanded.
"Marching is better than fighting. We've got blisters, but we're alive. "
In the afternoon they approached a town that Lieutenant Tomchak said was called Allenstein. They assembled in marching order on the outskirts, and entered the center in formation.
