CHAPTER X.

NATIONAL DEFENCE.

If Heaven helps only those who help themselves the United States will be

deplorably helpless the first time they fall into difficulty with any

foreign power.

Ever since the late civil war ended the general of the army has annually

given us earnest and intelligent warning as to the incomplete state of

our fortifications, and the inability of our artillery for offensive and

defensive operations against the improved armaments with which other

nations have amply supplied themselves. The admiral of the navy has made

similar reports. For a little while this looked like unnecessary

precaution or what a distinguished Congressman once called old woman’s

fussiness. Hadn’t we just triumphed over the largest armies that had

been brought into the field, except by ourselves, in half a century?

Hadn’t we organized a navy out of nothing, armed it splendidly, and done

with it whatever was desirable that the naval power of the country

should attempt? To be sure, our forts were few, but so were our harbors.

The construction of some of the harbor forts in the United States was

admired by the engineers of all the other civilized powers only thirty

years ago, and the public knew of it. To afterward be told that these

splendid and expensive structures were of no use, that they were

inadequate, that two or three guns on a second or third-rate ship of

some second or third-rate naval power could knock them to pieces would

have been humiliating had it not been enraging.

Attempts were made from time to time, in the earlier years following the

close of the war, to keep our military and naval establishment in fine

condition. We had admirable staff departments, and large “plants” for

the manufacture of almost everything required in ordnance and

ammunition. We had the nucleus of a navy and army from which a peace

establishment unequalled by any on the face of the earth might have been

selected. But we let it all go. No such spectacle as the disbandment and

disappearance of the great armies of the North and South was ever before

seen, and historians have glorified in this. Soldiers, however, whose

opinions we may yet be called upon to respect, regarded the spectacle in

entirely a different light. We had once before been caught--by

England--napping in a most unexpected way, said these old fellows; we

paid dearly for our neglect; but now we are repeating exactly the same

blunder. Excellent men who

[Illustration: MINES BUILDING.]

were willing to remain in the service were allowed to go, material of

every kind was disposed of at auction as rapidly as possible, and

nothing was provided to take its place. The numerical force of the

standing army was reduced more and more until even the Indians held us

in contempt. Indian massacres on the border have frequently been charged

to the rascality or duplicity of the white men. Undoubtedly the Indians

have had a great many provocations, but, so far as restraint through

fear is concerned, they have been subjected to very little of this very

necessary discipline. Large bands of armed Indians have been able to

keep brave but small detachments of United States troops within small

camps or forts, to isolate them and taunt them for days in succession,

to steal cattle, murder settlers, desolate the country, all because they

had contempt for an army which was so small that it never could oppose

more than a handful to any Indian raid which might suddenly be made.

Just look at some of the warnings we have had during recent years. In

his last report as commander of the army (1887), General Sheridan said:

“The condition of our sea-coast defences has continued to deteriorate

during the year, and the majority of them, both as regards the material

of which they are built, their location and present armament, would

prove of but little real service in time of foreign war.”

What was done about it? Nothing.

General Sheridan further advised that we should adopt some modern

magazine rifle for our soldiers, as all foreign nations had refitted

their armies with these guns.

What was done about it? Nothing.

General Sheridan further said: “I am strongly in favor of the general

movement extending all possible aid to the National Guard of the

different States, as they constitute a body of troops that in any great

emergency would form an important part of our military force.”

What was done about it? Nothing.

Before Sheridan, General Sherman made clear, vigorous, sensible protests

every year against our neglect to maintain good defences, but nothing

came of it in the way of improvement. After Sheridan’s death, General

Schofield, the ranking officer of the army, continued the good work;

only two or three months ago General Schofield said in his report that

the new guns we are making will make an increase in the number of

artillerists indispensable, and he urged the formation of two new

regiments at once. Does any one expect to see them?

Admiral Porter has been hammering away valiantly for years at

Congressional thick-heads for the neglect of the navy, but it was not

until the late Samuel J. Tilden gave his own party a blast on the

subject did we begin to construct a navy. Even now there is persistent

halting; Congress, regarding the navy, is like the girl of a certain

class regarding her suitors--so anxious to get the very best that she is

in danger of not getting any.

Both political parties seem agreed on the reduction of the regular army

to the smallest possible numerical force. While the Republicans were in

power some officers of the army used to hope for a change of

administration, and consequently change of party at the head of affairs

so that the army might “have a show.” But when the Democrats came in

with President Cleveland, there was no perceptible difference, except

that there was more trouble than before in obtaining ammunition with

which to salute the flag morning and evening. The army, small as its

maximum strength is according to law, has not been full in years, and

there are grave doubts among some of the higher officers of the army as

to whether it can be made full.

Why? Because men desert--run away at a rate unheard of in the army of

any other nation. General Schofield, in his annual report, says _there

were two thousand four hundred and thirty-six desertions last year--more

than ten per cent. of the entire army!_ Fear of punishment seems to have

no effect, and General Schofield felt obliged to recommend that a full

half of each enlisted man’s pay shall be retained until the end of the

period of enlistment. Isn’t this a humiliating state of affairs for the

army of the freest nation in the world?

There must be serious reason for this anomalous condition of the

military force. Our soldiers are better fed, better clothed, and far

better paid than those of any other country. An American soldier

receives, outside of his allowance for rations and clothing, more money

in a day than the British soldier can show to his credit in a week. His

term of enlistment is shorter and his possibilities of duty are

pleasanter, or should seem so to men of intelligence. Yet to enlist,

which is the first suggestion that presents itself to a man out of work

in a foreign country, seems to be the least popular in the United

States.

Undoubtedly one reason is, that among the inducements to enlist, we are

entirely lacking in anything that approaches the glory of war. Our only

enemies are Indians, the meanest, most sneaking, most treacherous foemen

that any civilized nation is fighting at the present time, and there is

less glory in capturing one of them or a great many of them than in any

taking of prisoners in ordinary war. The soldiers of other countries see

at least a great deal of the pomp of war, if very little of its

circumstance. Showy dresses, frequent parades, numerous occasions of

display, encampment in the vicinity of large cities and towns, freedom

to go about and spend money among civilized people, are all inducements

to men to join and remain in a foreign army at the present time.

But what inducement is offered the American soldier? He is put in a camp

of instruction as soon as he enlists, and sent to the border as soon as

he is fit for service. The border is a delightful country, according to

dime novels, but no sober man with his eyes open finds it anything but

dull. It is a sparsely settled country, uninteresting to every one but

the speculator and hunter. The soldier has nothing to speculate with,

and is very seldom allowed to go hunting. He is kept within narrow

bounds, sees almost no one but his own officers and comrades, has

nothing but camp duty to do, except when on long scouts outside camp

lines, or, still more unpleasant, when detailed for police, gardening,

or other laborious duties within the camp. It naturally occurs to the

American soldier that if he is to work eight hours a day in building

houses or stables, or digging wells, or throwing up embankments, or

ploughing the soil, or hoeing garden crops for the benefit of the post,

that he might as well be doing the same sort of work in the States at a

dollar and a half a day, and have his freedom between sunset and

sunrise.

Except that police precautions against the Indians are still necessary,

the only excuse that any one, except the military officer, seems

inclined to discover for the existence of our army at all, is that we

should have a nucleus of a military establishment in case of necessity.

But what is the nucleus worth? Two thousand officers, among whom

undoubtedly are a number of the best educated soldiers in the world,

constitute nearly all of our military force upon whom we could

confidently rely in case of trouble. The enlisted man, taking him as an

average character, is practically worthless at a time when the

enlargement of the army may suddenly become necessary. In France or

Germany officers may at any time be selected from the ranks. Of course

the systems of the two countries differ greatly from ours. Conscription

and the requirement that every adult man shall serve a portion of his

time in the army, makes a soldier of every one.

But is it not rather significant that the better class of men, to whom

we would have to look for additional officers in case of the necessity

of suddenly making a large army, are seldom found among our own

regulars? Some of the reasons for this deplorable deficiency of valuable

material have already been suggested. There is nothing to induce a man

to enter military life, and the enlisted man is too frequently used as a

common laborer.

But beside this, there is a greater grievance. It is that ours is as

aristocratic an army as any in the world, and that the distance of the

officers from the enlisted men is so great as to be simply immeasurable.

Volunteers used to grumble that some of their officers “put on airs.” It

is scarcely fair to say that regular officers put on airs, but it

certainly is true that the enlisted man, as a rule, is generally treated

by his superiors as a being of an entirely different order. Few men rise

from the ranks. Some men now high up on regimental rosters used to be

private soldiers, and a few instances of the kind occur nowadays, but

the vacancies are too few to attract good men to the ranks. Let any one

live at a military post a little while and explain, if he can, how any

one with sufficient self-respect to be fit for military rank of any kind

can bring himself to enlist in the United States army at all.

All this could be changed, without increasing the numerical strength of

the army, by an entire change of method which would not create any

friction, disorganization or reorganization, but which nevertheless

would encourage a better class of young men to enlist--a change which,

indeed, would secure some of the very best in the country. An army so

small as ours should be in the highest sense a military school. There is

nothing to prevent it. There is no army which has more leisure at its

disposal or officers more competent to act as instructors. No army in

the world has a greater percentage of highly educated officers. No

country can show a larger proportion of well-educated, restless,

unemployed, aspiring young men. There is no engineering party for a

railroad, a mine, a river improvement association, a drainage company or

anything else requiring applied mathematical and mechanical skill but

can secure a large staff of intelligent young men at an expense not

exceeding that of the ordinary soldier. These men generally work harder

and fare worse, regarding personal comfort, than the meanest of

soldiers, yet they are not only entirely satisfied with their chance,

but elbow each other fiercely in their desire to get it.

Suppose that instead of selecting men merely for their physical quality

and their supposed capacity for obedience, the standard of admission to

the ranks of the army should be as high as that of admission to West

Point. Suppose the Government were to assure the people that the

recruits would be treated as well as the cadets at the military or naval

academy; in an instant the army might have its choice from a hundred

thousand intelligent, well-born, well-bred, honorable, aspiring young

men. As already said, there is no trouble in getting any quantity of men

of this class to go out under the control of engineers for hard and

unpleasant duty. The inducement, beside the financial compensation, is

that they will be enabled to fit themselves, at least to some extent,

for the class of work which their superiors are already engaged in. They

are close observers, earnest students, intelligent assistants, and the

beginning of many an engineer, now prominent, has been in just such

parties.

The United States army might as well be one great school of engineering

and military tactics. It is well known that the mere company drill,

which is almost all the drill the American soldier is ever subjected to,

thanks to the distribution of the force in such a way that scarcely any

regiment has been together within a single period of enlistment of any

soldier in the army, requires very little time. It is no harder to

become proficient in than that of the militia of the various States and

cities. Indeed, with company drills once a week, almost any militia

regiment or company can present a finer appearance upon parade than any

but two or three “show” companies of regulars. The remainder of military

life consists in guard duty, the details of camp duty and of applied

engineering, which each man can learn as rapidly by experience as an

equal number of assistants in a construction party anywhere else. It is

known well enough at the West that the construction parties of railways

contain, beside a mass of common laborers, a great many intelligent

young fellows who have put on flannel shirts and cow-hide boots, have

taken pick and shovel and wheelbarrow, not so much for the wages that

are paid them as for what they are learning of the art of railroad

building. If such men can put up with the treatment ordinarily accorded

the section hands of a railway constructing party, they certainly would

be satisfied with the manners of officers of the United States army.

But--and here is an important distinction--no railway boss, however much

of a tyrant he may be, would dare to order one of his hands to cook his

supper or wait at his table or groom his horse or do any other service

of the quality commonly known as menial, but the American soldier in the

regular army is sometimes obliged to regard such demands as a matter of

course.

A plan was suggested a short time ago, by a military officer of

experience, by which the army might be reorganized on this basis without

any additional expense and without any possibility of friction. Several

years ago Major Sumner, of the regular army, himself a son of an old

regular of national fame, suggested a similar plan regarding a single

branch of the service--the cavalry. His plan was to select from among

the floating population of wild boys of the different cities a number of

the more intelligent, and organize from them a single regiment of

cavalry, to be carefully trained and specially educated, the more

promising and deserving recruits to be placed in the line of promotion,

and all to be encouraged to look to possible rank, responsibility, and

position as part of the compensation for the necessary restraint to

which they might be subjected. This restraint could by no possibility be

more severe and continuous than that of West Point.

All that has been said about the army applies with equal force to the

navy. When the apprentice system was formulated there was hope expressed

by hundreds of officers who had served in one branch or other of the

service during the late civil war, that it might afford a stepping-stone

to ambitious young men who wished to adopt a seafaring career, but were

unable to obtain admission to the naval academy, or in any other way to

gain a sufficient education in seamanship and gunnery, which are the two

principal requirements of the American naval officer. But if any number

of naval apprentices have yet reached officers’ uniforms or see before

them any hope of such advancement, the country has not heard of it;

neither has the naval department. The boys are treated kindly, well fed,

well clothed, educated to a certain extent and trained by officers

carefully selected for their intelligence, forbearance, patience, and

tact. But has any one seen any recommendation either to the naval

department or to members of Congress that the apprentice ships should be

schools for naval officers?

The consequence is that in case of our becoming suddenly involved in

war with any power we would be in as bad a position as we were when the

civil war broke out. At that time there was a sudden demand for twenty

times as many trained military officers as the regular army and the

graduating class at West Point could supply, and the demand became

greater every month during the time in which our first million of men

were enlisted. The scarcity of available material was so deplorable that

many lieutenants of regulars were called to the command of volunteer

regiments. Did any one think to go to the ranks of the regular army for

officers? At that time there were in the army thousands of sergeants,

any one of whom, had he been in the militia in a corresponding position,

would have been considered amply fit to organize, drill, and otherwise

care for a company of a hundred men. But there were no such demands, and

had they been made the proper men would not have been forthcoming to any

extent. The lack was not of military skill, but of the many other

qualities which go to the make-up of a soldier. And first among these is

a high degree of self-respect--a quality which has never been nourished

among enlisted men of the regular army of the United States.

The real trouble is lack of proper public spirit. During a recent chat

with Admiral Porter, that fine old sea-dog and fighter bemoaned the

lack of any proper public sense of caution.

“Why don’t you write up the subject yourself?” I asked.

“Write!” exclaimed the veteran, in his energetic way; “I’ve almost

written my finger-nails off, and do not believe it has done a particle

of good. Nothing would please me more than to be able to infuse a

patriotic spirit into the American people--make them feel that they have

a flag and need a navy to protect it. I wish we had some of the energy

and patriotism exhibited by our forefathers, for, according to present

indications, we will one day be humiliated by some fifth-rate naval

power which will come to our shores and teach us a lesson. No reason

exists why we should be exempt from war, for we are easily excited, and,

like the school-boy, dare any one to knock the chip from our shoulder,

though not able to fight.”

So say we all of us--all who give the subject intelligent thought.

"My country, 'tis of thee!" Or, the United States of America; past, present and future. A philosophic view of American history and of our present status, to be seen in the Columbian exhibition. · 第 10 / 26 章