Since the beginning of the war in Ukraine, numerous commentators have drawn comparisons to the First World War. While many observers of today’s “modern, drone-saturated, battlefield” dismiss such analogies as outdated, some of the parallels are striking and deserve examination. Despite the differences in politics and technology, the current war is clearly one of attrition; just like World War One. Two historical touchpoints stand out: the Russian approach to warfare, and the experience of the Western Front in the final year of World War One.
Russia’s strategy today, probing the entire front line in search of weak points before committing forces, strongly resembles the Brusilov Offensive of 1916, one of the most successful operational campaigns of the First World War. The Russian military’s current tactics suggest continuity with the past. One suspects today’s Russian generals would feel quite at home in the headquarters of the Imperial Russian Army in Lutsk (today’s Western Ukraine) as it broke through Austro-Hungarian lines that year. Understanding how Moscow wages war, its strengths and weaknesses, requires serious study of past campaigns.
It is the Western Front of late 1918 that offers perhaps the most relevant historical analogy for Ukraine’s current predicament. As the eminent British historian David Stevenson noted in a recent seminar, “The 1918 Armistice did not come as part of any widely anticipated timeline, even among those closest to the conflict.” In fact, as late as the autumn of 1917, the British Cabinet was still debating the construction of new battleships, anticipating a war that might drag on beyond 1920.
Today, Russian attacks stretch across the entire front, much of it consisting of fortified urban and industrial terrain that in many ways resembles the trench systems of World War One. Ukrainian forces continue to adapt, shifting units via their extensive rail network to counter Russian penetrations and prevent a decisive breakthrough. This recalls the situation in mid-1918, when the German Army, exhausted and having failed in its Spring Offensive, nevertheless managed to prevent Allied breakthroughs by rapidly redeploying experienced units to threatened sectors. In both cases, we see a seasoned and entrenched military force holding vast territory. Tactical competence, however, may conceal strategic exhaustion. That is the danger now facing Ukraine. While frontline morale remains strong, civilian fatigue, manpower shortages, and economic strain driven by infrastructure damage are beginning to show.
The terrain of the Donbas is one of the few industrial regions in the world naturally suited for defense, comparable to the Ruhr Valley in Germany, the Katowice industrial zone in Poland, or even the manufacturing belt around Detroit. Just as the Germans used factories, rail lines, and dense towns in northern France to support their defensive efforts, Ukraine is leveraging the urban wreckage of Avdiivka, Chasiv Yar, Pokrovsk, and Kupiansk to blunt Russian advances. These areas provide formidable positions—but not indefinitely. Should Russian forces succeed in shifting the war westward onto the open Steppe, Ukrainian defenders could find themselves as exposed as the Germans were after the breach of the Hindenburg Line.
Historically, German, and Prussian military doctrine have always emphasized offense, particularly the swift counterattack while on the defensive. In 1918, as American forces began arriving in strength, the Germans relied heavily on interior rail lines to shift troops quickly and meet the threat. Rail hubs like Cambrai, Amiens, Maubeuge, Valenciennes, and Mézières, names now mostly forgotten, except for the numerous Allied and German War Cemeteries which today dot the landscape in mute testament to the past, were vital to this strategy.
Today, the Russians are applying similar pressure to Ukraine’s own logistical lifelines. Despite the technological changes of the past century, railroads remain essential for transporting heavy equipment, supplies, and troops. Though the locations are different, key Ukrainian cities now perform the same role for Kyiv as Cambrai and Amiens once did for the German Army. Kramatorsk, the main logistical hub in Donetsk Oblast; Pokrovsk, now essentially surrounded; Pavlohrad, linking Dnipro to the Donbas; and Dnipro itself, the critical node connecting eastern and southern Ukraine—all serve as lifelines. It is no surprise that Russian operations increasingly aim to sever them.
Unlike the Allies in 1918, who possessed only limited and primitive air power, Russia today wields an array of advanced long-range strike options. Drones, FAB bombs, conventional artillery, ballistic missiles, and state of the art hypersonic weapons are used to target Ukraine’s logistical centers, infrastructure, and air defense systems. The goal is to replicate the 1918-style isolation of the front line, cutting supply chains and restricting the redeployment of Ukrainian units. Once the key cities are taken or rendered unusable through constant shelling and FPV drone strikes, Ukrainian freedom of movement will deteriorate rapidly.
The fall of the small city of Amiens in early August 1918 triggered a chain reaction that ultimately ended the war. Amiens was the main hub through which the Germans supplied northern France. The Allies launched a surprise assault, forgoing artillery preparation and deploying 500 tanks alongside heavy air support. The German defense collapsed. Soon after, British and French forces targeted other critical rail nodes. By late September, the Allies had cut the Cambrai–Le Cateau line and advanced toward Aulnoye-Aymeries. Despite the primitive state of RAF bombing, its effectiveness contributed to collapsing German strategic mobility. As the official British history recorded, “The cutting of the Cambrai–Le Cateau line marked the moment when the German Army could no longer rely on internal lines to maneuver reserves. It was the first death knell of their strategic flexibility.”
General Ludendorff, recognizing the implications, warned the Kaiser, “We have nearly reached the limit of our powers of resistance. The war must be ended.” By October, the German Army faced two irrecoverable failures: it could no longer supply its troops, nor could it coordinate effective counterattacks. The war was essentially lost. Ludendorff, suffering from a physical and mental breakdown, ultimately urged the Kaiser to seek an armistice.
While modern Ukraine is not Imperial Germany (Germany had endured four years of naval blockade, for one), the parallels remain disturbing. In addition to Ukraine’s well-documented manpower shortfalls, the loss or isolation of critical cities in the Donbas could trigger a systemic collapse of its defensive posture. Ukrainian forces might be forced to abandon their prepared positions. Were President Zelensky to resign or be removed under domestic pressure, political fragmentation could deepen the crisis.
When Germany requested an armistice in November 1918, it still occupied most of Belgium and northern France. But it no longer had the capacity to hold what it claimed. History may not repeat itself, but policymakers today would be wise to revisit the final months of 1918. From the Western perspective, the priority must be to ensure that this war does not end suddenly, without political preparation, under conditions set by Moscow. As David Stevenson wrote in With Our Backs to the Wall, “The initial collapse at Amiens was more than a tactical failure; it revealed that the German Army could no longer sustain modern war.” Absent a peace settlement, Ukraine could reach a similar inflection point.
It is also worth recalling that Russian military thinking is deeply influenced by the past, and in particular, the Prussian theorist Carl von Clausewitz, who once wrote, “An army’s lines of communication are like the capillaries of the human body; if they are cut, the organism perishes.” Clausewitz served in the Tsarist Army during the Napoleonic Wars, and his concepts remain foundational in Russian doctrine. Although often overlooked by Western analysts, Russian planners continue to study military history carefully, seeking patterns and strategic insights they can apply today.
For this reason, it is essential that NATO planners develop a better understanding of how their adversaries think. They must be prepared for the possibility that Ukraine could face a collapse similar to that of the German Army in 1918, or based on the today’s modern weaponry, an even faster collapse. History does not predict the future, but rigorous study of the past improves our ability to anticipate and influence future events. August/September 1918 may offer the clearest warning for what could lie ahead in this conflict. NATO should heed this warning and strive to ensure that Ukraine does not meet the same fate as Germany 107 years before.
John Beckner is the CEO of a UK aerospace company involved in maritime intelligence and ISR systems and data.