The Brusilov Offensive: Russia's Greatest Victory of the First World War

By 1916, the eastern front of the Great War was stuck in the mud. After two years of vicious, back-and-forth fighting, the line between the Russian Empire and the Central Powers had more or less settled into the familiar mess of trenches and barbed wire that came to define the First World War. Both sides were essentially at a stalemate, unable to make any serious gains despite the heavy use of artillery.

That was about to change. In coordination with British and French operations in the west, Russia prepared to launch its most ambitious plan of the entire war: a gargantuan operation involving nearly two million men across the eastern front. The goal was not merely to gain ground, but to knock the Austro-Hungarian army out of the war for good and cripple the Central Powers.

This was the Brusilov Offensive, named for the general who conceived its decisive southern thrust, General Aleksei Brusilov. It became one of the most lethal operations in human history, and one that would change the course of the Great War.

It is the story of how a single Russian commander broke the deadlock that had defeated every other army on the continent, how his success was squandered by the men who should have backed him, and how the bloody, inconclusive result helped push an empire toward revolution.

Smashing the Stalemate

The fighting along the eastern front had been deeply unproductive for Russia. Enormous numbers of men had been lost for almost nothing in return, and even the generals had little optimism about a future offensive. In February 1916 the Russian army launched an attack centered on Vilnius, mostly at the request of the French, who hoped such an operation would force the Germans to divert troops away from Verdun in the west.

The attack was catastrophic. For every casualty Germany suffered, Russia suffered five. Because the Germans had been so successful in their defense, their confidence remained high after these defensive victories, and the battle did little to draw forces away from the western front.

That attitude was a double-edged sword. The Central Powers grew overconfident in the weakness of the Imperial Russian Army, and they were not expecting any sophisticated offensive they could not easily withstand. One Austrian lieutenant colonel said of the Russians: “They attack stupidly, in thick masses. They can do no more because they have no training.”

One General’s Different Perspective

Similar ideas were shared even on Russia’s own side. Many generals in the Imperial Russian Army, such as General Aleksei Evert, wanted to adopt a completely defensive posture, holding whatever land they had and avoiding any further humiliating defeats. One man saw the situation entirely differently: General Aleksei Brusilov.

Brusilov believed Russian soldiers were capable of a successful attack as long as they had proper training, weapons, and morale. He stood up and advocated for a renewed offensive, one that would honor a previous agreement with France, Britain, and Italy to divide the strength of the Central Powers across multiple fronts.

The timing was favorable. France was occupied mostly with the German assault at Verdun, Italy was fighting in the south, and Britain was planning the massive Somme Offensive for July 1916. There would never be a better moment to strike in the east while the Central Powers were divided. Despite warnings that a failed attack could ruin his reputation, Brusilov refused to back down, and his plan was eventually approved by Tsar Nicholas II.

A Plan for Two Fronts

The plan involved 1.7 million men, divided roughly into two fronts. In the northern sector, General Evert would advance on the German defenses with the goal of reaching Vilnius, where the Russians enjoyed a large numerical advantage. Just ten days before that attack, General Brusilov, in the south-western sector, would advance on the Austro-Hungarian defenses along a 450-kilometer frontline in what is today part of western Ukraine.

In Brusilov’s sector there was no clearly defined strategic city or objective. The aim was the broad one of crushing as many of the enemy as possible while creating a diversion for the main attack to the north. The two halves of the operation were meant to reinforce one another, with Brusilov’s thrust pinning Austro-Hungarian forces while Evert delivered the decisive blow against the Germans.

This division of labor would matter enormously. Brusilov never intended his southern push to be the war-winning effort; he intended it to set the stage for someone else’s.

How Brusilov Rewrote the Attack

Brusilov was not planning to simply gather hundreds of thousands of men and have them charge straight into enemy territory, an approach that clearly was not working in the new era of machine guns and trenches. Traditionally, Russians had suffered huge casualties as their men bunched together to push through breaks in the barbed wire, allowing defenders to concentrate their fire on a small area. Brusilov intended to avoid this by attacking across larger fronts, spreading out the enemy’s attention and creating more opportunities to break through. When a break was achieved, he could flood it with reinforcements.

He also assembled new tactics drawn from his enemies, his allies, and Russia’s past mistakes. Russia’s previous use of artillery had been disorganized and ineffective. Under the new training, artillery would be directed in coordinated movements using information gathered by reconnaissance planes. The aircraft would spot crucial places where barbed wire could be destroyed and vital trenches whose collapse would hamper the defenders’ movement.

Spotters then relayed the effectiveness of each strike, and gunners adjusted as necessary. It was a major step up from simply taking aim and firing randomly behind enemy lines.

Four Waves and a Creeping Barrage

Once the artillery barrage lifted, four waves of men would jump from the trenches and advance. The first two waves carried not only their rifles but plenty of hand grenades to obliterate the first lines of defense. After that, the third wave brought up the machine guns, clearing the way for the cavalry that would follow in the fourth wave to charge through the opening.

All of these tactics and formations were completely foreign to both the officers and the average Russian soldier, but that was anticipated. To prepare for the assault, everyone underwent extensive training. Mock battles were carried out on replicas of Austro-Hungarian defenses to simulate the coming fight, and secret trenches were dug to bring the assault teams ever closer to the enemy, in some places within fifty meters.

The men were trained to work together as a team, each with an individual role, ready to improvise and adapt to any challenge rather than charge as one large mass into machine-gun fire. Russian morale on the south-western front skyrocketed throughout this training, and even the officers grew confident in their men’s ability to emerge victorious. On the other side of the line, the Austro-Hungarian defenses were expecting the same old strategies. They were in for a shock.

Summer of Blood

The attack date was set for June 4, 1916, a bit earlier than anyone had anticipated, but Brusilov was certain his men were ready. It began with an immense artillery bombardment of the trenches guarding the city of Lutsk. Just as they had trained, the men fired their 76mm guns in careful coordination against the Austro-Hungarian lines. Thanks to the spotter planes, this first rain of fire was a massive success, opening 24 breaches amid the tangles of barbed wire.

Heavier artillery then pounded strongholds in the enemy trenches, paving the way for the infantry to come.

Instead of a single huge attack, as the defenders expected, they were met with several touch-and-go missions, small pokes and prods into the frontlines that relayed better information back to the artillery units. Then, in the evening, the order was given to charge. The waves of assault troops leapt from their trenches and began a steady walk toward the enemy lines behind a creeping barrage, with the Russian artillery landing just in front of the men as they marched forward, concealing their approach until the very last second.

The Battle of Lutsk

The Austro-Hungarian forces defending the lines in front of Lutsk numbered around 200,000, while Brusilov’s Russians came in at around 150,000. The disadvantage was not felt in the slightest. The first waves of assault troops crashed through the heavily defended trenches and gunned down their enemies with stunning success. On the first day alone, 26,000 men were taken prisoner, with thousands more to follow in the coming days.

As the Russians stormed through wave after wave, they showed no sign of stopping. They moved so quickly that captured Austro-Hungarian troops often remarked they had no time at all to get back into position after an artillery strike. The moment the shells stopped falling, Russian troops were already on top of them.

The Battle of Lutsk was over after just two days. Austria-Hungary had suffered an estimated 130,000 casualties, and while Russia had also lost thousands of men, it was nothing compared to the enemy’s losses. It was a monumental success. The blow was so devastating that Archduke Joseph Ferdinand, in command of the now almost entirely destroyed Austro-Hungarian Fourth Army, was relieved of his duties, and an Austrian commander was forced to close down operations in Italy to divert troops and heavy guns eastward.

It was exactly what Brusilov had anticipated. He just needed to keep his momentum.

Riding the Breakthrough

For a time, he did. His men continued their march, and by June 7 they had full control of Lutsk and were heading for their next targets, carving a salient nearly 70 kilometers deep into the frontlines. Austria-Hungary attempted several counterattacks, but these were poorly planned, poorly executed, and poorly equipped. Brusilov’s men brushed them off like mosquitoes, and Germany began diverting thousands of troops into the region to keep its ally standing.

Further south, Brusilov’s men captured the city of Chernivtsi and reached the edge of the Carpathian Mountains, raising the grand possibility of marching directly into Hungary through the mountain passes. Things could hardly have gone better. Success on this scale was extraordinarily rare in the First World War, where most frontlines had been static for years, but Brusilov’s innovative methods had made his army a force to be reckoned with.

This was only the first act of the show. The main push was supposed to come a few days later under General Evert further north. The Central Powers appeared to be on the verge of a major, catastrophic defeat.

When the Plan Came Apart

This is when things started to go awry. A frustrated Brusilov was suddenly informed that Evert’s offensive further up the line would be delayed because Evert did not believe his men were trained enough. Or it was the bad weather. Or the strong German defenses. Evert seemed to have a lot of excuses, and it was clear he lacked confidence in the attack, or feared that his reputation would suffer if he could not match the success laid out before him.

Whatever his reasoning, Evert requested a delay until June 18, which was eventually pushed all the way to July 3. But time was of the essence. The Russians could not sit idle all summer and allow Germany to consolidate its defenses and patch up Austria-Hungary’s army. They needed to capitalize on their momentum, so Tsar Nicholas II switched up the plan.

Instead of Evert’s attack in the north, Brusilov’s already successful push would become the main offensive, and scores of reserves were sent to continue the advance.

Brusilov was beside himself. He had not planned for this and was not sure how it would end. He was furious at the other generals for ignoring his success, and he felt the opportunity for a decisive victory slipping away. He knew he would try his best regardless, so he hastily drew up new plans for what was now the main attack under his command.

Spiraling Downward

The new plan was to push forward to the city of Kovel, then advance further north and capture Baranavichy, in modern-day Belarus. Both cities held vital railway junctions that could act as the arteries of the Russian army, pumping resources even further west, where the city of Lviv was ripe for the taking.

But just as Brusilov had anticipated, the delays had given Germany crucial days to send reinforcements, and the frontlines grew harder and harder to break. Russian casualties began stacking up, and though they were still making progress, the loss of life was becoming extreme. German counterattacks were far better organized than those of the Austro-Hungarian armies, forcing Russian units to waste crucial manpower and ammunition, and often losing the ground they had just gained.

When the beginning of July finally arrived, General Evert was ready to launch his double-delayed attack in the north. It was doomed from the start. To Brusilov’s dismay, Evert had trained his men in the old Russian tactics, the ones that did not work, and they did not work here either. Evert launched a massive, full frontal assault, losing nearly a hundred thousand men and gaining almost no land in return.

A Breakthrough That Bled Out

Even Brusilov’s own field officers began abandoning his tactics. They had seen how effective the methods were, but time was short, and they did not have weeks to train the reservists arriving by the thousands every day. When they finally reached Kovel, they too ordered a full frontal assault, taking immense casualties and losing the chance to take the city.

As German counterattacks struck with considerable force, Russia decided it was best to fortify the land it had taken and cement the new frontline. Sporadic fighting raged on, but with little to show for it. Even in the south, where the Russians managed another breakthrough, they found no strategic target worth claiming as a serious victory, just fields, mountains, and small villages, nothing to anchor a new frontline.

As one historian put it: “Attacks continued on until the autumn rains turned the roads to mud, but other than add to the already terrible casualty list, nothing was achieved.” By late September, the Brusilov Offensive was over.

Brusilov’s Impact

The offensive ended with mixed results. Begin with the good. The attack had decimated Austria-Hungary’s morale and much of its fighting capability. It was such a huge defeat that the empire never truly recovered, and Germany had to pick up the slack for the remainder of the war. In total, the Central Powers suffered nearly a million casualties between deaths, injuries, and prisoners of war, a number too large to replace with a quick round of fresh conscripts.

It is regarded as Russia’s greatest victory of the war, and perhaps one of the greatest of any country involved, because it finally showed that trenches could be taken, that no man’s land was not simply a death trap, and that the stalemate could be broken. Its success even convinced Romania to join the war against the Central Powers, further surrounding Austria-Hungary and extending the frontline southward.

It also technically achieved its original purpose: drawing the Central Powers’ strength away from Verdun. Over the course of the offensive, Germany and Austria-Hungary diverted 30 divisions of men eastward, likely contributing to the eventual French victory at Verdun.

A Pyrrhic Victory and Its Long Shadow

At the same time, many consider it a pyrrhic victory. Russian casualties also neared a million men, including a great many experienced, veteran soldiers. Russia’s offensive capabilities would never recover. But this was not really Brusilov’s fault. He intended his part of the offensive to be a diversion before the main attack, and things might have gone far better had Evert followed his example in the north instead of clinging to the old playbook.

In some respects, the offensive actually made the Central Powers a little stronger. After seeing how badly the Austro-Hungarian forces held their ground, Germany assumed command over many of their armies in an effort to bring them up to par. Brusilov’s tactics are also believed to have inspired the emergence of German stormtroopers later in the war, who adopted similar methods on the western front.

While the battles failed to achieve a decisive victory on the eastern front, there is one place where the offensive certainly had a massive influence: back home in Russia. The immense loss of life and the palpable incompetence of the country’s leadership angered many, and there is no doubt that the inconclusive result of these offensives contributed to the onset of the Russian Revolution.

With the growing unrest at home, Russia would eventually be forced to withdraw from the conflict to focus on the Russian Civil War. Brusilov himself would eventually fight for the Bolsheviks, after which he became a crucial part in the founding of the Soviet Red Army. Had Evert cooperated in the north and succeeded, perhaps the population of the Russian Empire would have felt more compelled to support the war, the revolution might not have gained as much traction, and the Soviet Union might never have risen. If this single offensive had gone just a little differently, we could be living in a very different world today.