By Michael F. Duggan
By June 1864, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. was tired of war. The 23-year-old brevet colonel, formerly of the Twentieth Regiment of Massachusetts Volunteers, had twice been shot within an inch of his life—through the chest at Ball’s Bluff on the Potomac near Leesburg, Virginia, and through the neck at Antietam—and almost lost his foot to a ball from a Confederate canister shell at Chancellorsville. He had seen many of his friends killed or wounded in the war (Holmes was convalescing in Boston during the battle of Gettysburg, where the 20th would lose 10 of its 13 officers, killed and wounded). In almost four years of fighting, 20th suffered 409 killed, the fifth highest number of casualties of all regiment units in the Union Army.
In January 1864, Holmes was made aide-de-camp to General Horatio Wright of the second division in the Union’s VI Corps (Wright would become corps commander on May 12). His job as a staff officer turned out to be almost as dangerous as that of a combat officer, and he was frequently on the firing line. By late spring, with his period of service nearly up, Holmes decided that he had had enough.
More than anything, it appears to have been Grant’s Virginia Overland Campaign of May and June that got to him. On May 11, Holmes wrote to his mother “Today is the 7th day we have fought, not pitched battles all of the time of course, but averaging a loss I guess of 3,000 a day at least.”1 In six weeks, the Army of the Potomac would lose just under 55,000 men. Holmes would muster out at Fort Stevens in Washington, D.C. on July 17, 1864. He had more than done his share and would go on to become the greatest legal thinkers in U.S. History and our greatest Supreme Court Justice.
With 110,000 men, Grant realized that he could sustain twice as many casualties as Lee (with 60,000-65,000 men) and still win the war. Union battlefield defeats—although significant—were secondary relative to the overall strategy of destroying Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia. The idea was to latch on to Lee like a bulldog and not let go. In spite of significant losses at the Wilderness, Spotsylvania, and Cold Harbor, the greater numbers of the Union Army ultimately prevailed. One hundred seven years ago this Tuesday, the Imperial German Army attack Verdun, knowing that the French would defend it to the last man. Such is the hideous logic of attrition.
The population of Ukraine is now estimated to be below 37 million, and is perhaps far lower. The population of Russia is around 145 million, almost four times as large, with a traditional industrial/extractive economy capable of autarchy and supporting a war effort indefinitely. If Russia’s offensive takes on the slow, grinding character of a 19th or early 20th century offensive with modern weaponry, as it it expected to do, it seems likely that even with heavy casualties, they will win.
When I think of a war of attrition, it is the Western Front of the First World War that comes to mind. It was a tragedy—a catastrophe. But it was also a crime. The politicians on both sides knew what was happening in Flanders and Picardy. The final campaigns of the Civil War were judged to be necessary measures in what had become an existential war. By the end of the war, the South was in ruins but would eventually win the peace after the failure of Reconstruction in 1878. Grant was called a “butcher” by some. We can infer that the war in Ukraine is heading into a particularly destructive phase and one that could easily morph into a direct confrontation between NATO and Russia. Larger numbers are not always the determining factor of a war, but in Ukraine, they may be suggestive (and some independent Western sources are reporting that Russian losses to date may be considerably lower than the numbers reported by the mainstream media). If the war remains limited to Ukraine and Russia, the side with the greater numbers will likely prevail. The other alternative is a festering war of position.
At this point, the only position for a rational person is one favoring peace talks.
Note
1. Mark De Wolfe Howe, ed., Touched with Fire, Civil War Letters and Diary of Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr., 114.