GENERAL PRINCIPLES
Strategy is difficult of definition; but though many definitions
have been made, and though they do not agree together very well,
yet all agree that strategy is concerned with the preparation of
military forces for war and for operating them in war--while tactics
is the immediate instrument for handling them in battle. Strategy
thinks out a situation beforehand, and decides what preparations
as to material, personnel, and operations should be made.
Many books have been written on strategy, meaning strategy as applied
to armies, but very few books have been written on naval strategy.
The obvious reasons are that armies in the past have been much
larger and more important than navies; that naval men have only
recently had the appliances on board ship for writing on an extensive
scale; and that the nature of their occupation has been such that
continuous application of the kind needed for thinking out principles
and expounding them in books, has only recently been possible.
Most of the few existing books on naval strategy deal with it
historically, by describing and explaining the naval campaigns
of the past and such land campaigns as illustrate principles that
apply to sea and land alike. Perhaps the best books are those of
Darrieus and Mahan.
Until about fifty years ago, it was only by experience in actual
war, supplemented by laborious study of the campaigns of the great
commanders, and the reading of books on strategy which pointed
out and expounded the principles involved in them, that one could
arrive at any clear idea of strategy.
But wars have fortunately been so infrequent, the information about
them has often been so conflicting, and so many results have been
due to chance, that, in default of experience, the mere reading
of books did not lead to very satisfactory results, except in the
case of geniuses; and therefore war problems and war games were
devised, in which the various factors of material and personnel
were represented, and made as true to life as possible.
The _tactical_ games resulting, which naval strategists now play,
employ models of the various craft used in war, such as battleships,
submarines, etc., and are governed by rules that regulate the movements
of those craft on a sort of big chess-board, several feet square, that
represents an area of water several miles square. The _strategic_
games and problems are based on principles similar to those on which
the tactical games are based, in the sense that actual operations are
carried on in miniature; but naturally, the strategical operations
cover several hundred miles, and sometimes thousands. The aim of
both the tactical and the strategic games is to determine as closely
as possible the laws that decide victory or defeat; and therefore,
for any country, the material, personnel and operations it should
employ. Naturally the results obtained are not quite so convincing
as those of actual war or battle; but they are more convincing
than can be attained in any other way, as yet devised, especially
as many of the operations of the game-board that turn out well in
games are tried out afterward by the fleet in peace maneuvers.
War games and problems may be compared to the drawings that an
architect makes of a house which some one wants to build; the plans
and drawings are not so realistic as a real house, but they are
better than anything else; and, like the war games, they can be
altered and realtered until the best result seems to have been
attained, considering the amount of money allowed and other practical
conditions.
The idea of devising war games and war problems seems to have originated
with Von Moltke; certainly it was first put in practice by his
direction. Shortly after he became chief of the General Staff of
the Prussian army in 1857, he set to work to carry out the ideas
which he had had in mind for several years, while occupying minor
posts, but which he had not had the power to enforce. It seems to
have become clear to his mind that, if a chess-player acquired
skill, not only by playing actual games and by studying actual
games played by masters, but also by working out hypothetical chess
problems, it ought to be possible to devise a system whereby army
officers could supplement their necessarily meagre experience of
actual war, and their necessarily limited opportunities for studying
with full knowledge the actual campaigns of great strategists,
by working out hypothetical, tactical, and strategic problems.
Von Moltke succeeded in devising such a system and in putting it
into successful operation. Hypothetical problems were prepared,
in which enemy forces were confronted with each other under given
circumstances of weather, terrain, and distances, each force with
its objective known only to itself: for instance, you are in command
of such and such a force at such and such a place; you have received
orders to accomplish such and such a purpose; you receive information
that the enemy, comprising such and such troops, was at a certain
time at a certain place, and marching in a certain direction. What
do you do?
Classes of army officers were formed, and compelled to work out
the problems exactly as boys at school were compelled to work out
problems in arithmetic. The skill of individual officers in solving
the problems was noted and recorded; and the problems themselves,
as time went on and experience was gained, were made more and more
to conform to probable situations in future wars with Austria,
France, and other countries, actual maps being used, and the exact
nature and magnitude of every factor in each problem being precisely
stated.
By such work, the pupils (officers) acquired the same kind of skill
in solving strategic and tactical problems that a boy acquires in
solving problems in arithmetic--a skill in handling the instruments
employed. Now the skill acquired in solving any kind of problem,
like the skill developed in any art, such as baseball, fencing, or
piano-playing, does not give a man skill merely in doing a thing
identically like a thing he has done before: such a skill would
be useless, for the reason that identical conditions almost never
recur, and identical problems are never presented. Similar conditions
often recur, however, and similar problems are often presented;
and familiarity with any class of conditions or problems imparts
skill in meeting any condition or any problem that comes within
that class. If, for instance, a man memorizes the sums made by
adding together any two of the digits, he is equipped to master
any problem of addition; and if he will practise at adding numbers
together, he will gradually acquire a certain ability of mind whereby
he can add together a long row of figures placed in a sequence
he never saw before, and having a sum he never attained before.
Or a pianist, having acquired the mastery of the technic of the
keyboard and the ability to read music, can sit down before a piano
he never sat at before and play off instantly a piece of music he
never saw before.
Doubtless Moltke had ideas of this kind in mind when his plans
for educating strategists and tacticians by problems on paper and
by games were ridiculed by the unimaginative, and resisted by the
indolent; and certainly no man was ever proved right more gloriously
than Moltke. In the war with Austria in 1866, the Prussian army
defeated the Austrian at Sadowa or Königgrätz in nineteen days after
the declaration of war. In the war with France in 1870, the Prussian
army routed the French and received the surrender of Napoleon III
in seven weeks and two days, not because of superior courage or
experience in war, but by more scientific strategy. As Henderson
says: "Even the French generals of divisions and brigades had had
more actual experience (in war) than those who led the German army
corps. Compared with the German rank and file, a great part of
their non-commissioned officers and men were veterans, and veterans
who had seen much service. Their chief officers were practically
familiar with the methods of moving, supplying, and maneuvering
large masses of troops; their marshals were valiant and successful
soldiers. And yet the history of modern warfare records no defeats
so swift and complete as those of Königgrätz and Sedan. The great
host of Austria was shattered in seven weeks; the French Imperial
army was destroyed in seven weeks and three days; and to all intents
and purposes the resistance they had offered was not much more
effective than that of a respectable militia. But both the Austrian
and the French armies were organized and trained under the old
system. Courage, experience, and professional pride they possessed
in abundance. Man for man, in all virile qualities, neither officers
nor men were inferior to their foes. But one thing their generals
lacked, and that was education for war. Strategy was almost a sealed
book to them." Also, "Moltke committed no mistake. Long before war
had been declared every possible precaution had been made. And
these included much more than arrangements for rapid mobilization,
the assembly of superior numbers completely organized, and the
establishment of magazines. The enemy's numbers, armaments, readiness,
and efficiency had been submitted to a most searching examination.
Every possible movement that might be made, however unlikely, had
been foreseen; every possible danger that might arise, however
remote, discussed and guarded against"; also, "That the Prussian
system should be imitated, and her army deprived of its monopoly
of high efficiency, was naturally inevitable. Every European state
has to-day its college, its intelligence department, its schools of
instruction, and its course of field maneuvers and field firing."
Strategy may be divided into two parts, war strategy and preparation
strategy; and of these two, preparation strategy is by far the
more important.
War strategy deals with the laying out of plans of campaign after
war has begun, and the handling of forces until they come into
contact with the enemy, when tactics takes those forces in its
charge. It deals with actual situations, arranges for the provisioning,
fuelling, and moving of actual forces, contests the field against an
actual enemy, the size and power of which are fairly well known--and
the intentions of which are sometimes known and sometimes not.
The work of the strategist in war is arduous, pressing, definite,
and exciting; and results are apt to follow decisions quickly.
He plays the greatest and oldest game the world has ever known,
with the most elaborate instruments, and for the largest stakes.
In most wars, the antagonists have been so nearly equal in point
of personnel and material that the result has seemed to be decided
by the relative degrees of skill of the strategists on both sides.
This has been the verdict of history; and victorious commanders
in all times and in all lands have achieved rarer glories, and
been crowned with higher honors, than any other men.
Preparation strategy deals with the laying out of plans for
supposititious wars and the handling of supposititious forces against
supposititious enemies; and arranges for the construction, equipment,
mobilization, provisioning, fuelling, and moving of supposititious
fleets and armies. War strategy is vivid, stimulating and resultful;
preparation strategy is dull, plodding, and--for the strategist
himself--apparently resultless. Yet war strategy is merely the
child of preparation strategy. The weapons that war strategy uses,
preparation strategy put into its hands. The fundamental plans, the
strength and composition of the forces, the training of officers
and men, the collection of the necessary material of all kinds,
the arrangements for supplies and munitions of all sorts--the very
principles on which war strategy conducts its operations--are the
fruit of the tedious work of preparation strategy. Alexander reaps
the benefit of the preliminary labors of his father, Philip; William
is made German Emperor by the toil of Moltke.
The work of laying out a supposititious campaign, involving
supposititious operations against a supposititious enemy, requires
of the strategist a thorough estimate of the situation, including
a careful estimate of the forces of the enemy, in material and
personnel, and of the strategy that will probably govern his
operations--whether he will act on the defensive, or assume the
offensive; if he is to act on the defensive, how and where will he
base his forces, how far will he operate away from his own shores? And
if he is to act on the offensive, what direction will his operations
take; will he secure an advance base; and if so, where? And as the
character of the enemy's operations will depend on the personnel
of the enemy General Staff and of the high commanders afloat, who
comprise the personnel, and what are their characteristics?
To decide these questions correctly requires considerable acquaintance
with the enemy country, its navy and its policy, a full knowledge
of the strategy, personnel, and material of that navy, and a sound
conception of strategy itself. But to decide the questions correctly
is essential, because the decision will form the basis of the future
plans.
Naturally, as the plan is entirely supposititious and is to take
effect at some indefinite time in the future, all the factors that
will be in existence at that time cannot be foretold exactly, and
therefore must be estimated. This will necessitate several alternate
hypotheses; and a war plan including mobilization and operations
must be made out, based on each hypothesis. For instance, on the
hypothesis that the enemy will take the offensive, one set of plans
will have to be prepared on the basis that we shall also take the
offensive, and another on the basis that circumstances may be such at
that time as to make it wise for us to resort to the defensive; while
on the hypothesis that the enemy is to remain on the defensive, a set
of plans very different from the other two as to both mobilization
and operations must be devised.
Each set of the plans just suggested may also have to be divided
into two or more parts. On the basis that the enemy will remain
on the defensive, for instance, the circumstances when the hour
for action comes, such as the fact of his being quite unprepared,
may indicate the advisability of an attack on him as sudden as it
can be made; while, on the other hand, circumstances such as the
fact of his being thoroughly prepared may render it necessary for
us to send a larger force than we could get ready quickly, especially
if the enemy coast be far away, and may therefore indicate the
advisability of deliberate movements, and even a protracted delay
before starting.
But no matter what plan is to be followed, a detailed plan for every
probable contingency must be prepared; and it must be elaborated
in such detail that it can be put into operation instantly when
the fateful instant comes; because the enemy will put his plans
into operation at the same time we do, and the one whose plans
are executed first will take a long step toward victory.
Not only must the plans provide some means whereby the plans themselves
shall get into full operation instantly when war breaks; other plans
must also provide that all the acts which those plans contemplate
must be performed. Not only must the plans provide that all the
prearranged orders for putting the _Kearsarge_ into full commission
shall be instantly sent by mail, telegraph, and telephone to the
proper officials, but other plans must also provide means whereby
the officers and men shall actually march on board the _Kearsarge_,
her ensign and commission pennant be displayed, all the fuel,
ammunition, provisions, and equipment be on board and the _Kearsarge_
sail at once, and join the commander-in-chief at sea.
Doubtless the most complicated and comprehensive plans are those for
sending a large expedition on an offensive mission to a far-distant
coast, especially if that coast be guarded by an efficient navy,
if it have outlying islands that would afford good bases for her
destroyers and submarines, and if there are not good harbors which
our fleet could seize as advance bases, from which to prosecute
its future operations. The complexity of the task of planning such
an expedition, taking due account, but not exaggerated account,
of all the factors, favorable and adverse, is appalling; but the
task must be undertaken and accomplished. The most tedious part
is the logistics--the arrangements for supplying the fleet on the
way and in the distant theatre of operations with the necessary
provisions, equipment, and ammunition and, above all, the fuel.
The average superdreadnaught consumes about 460 tons of coal per
day at full speed, and about 108 tons at 10 knots; and coal or
other fuel for all the dreadnaughts, battle cruisers, cruisers of
various classes, scouts, destroyers, submarines, ships, aircraft
of different kinds, hospital ships, ammunition ships, transports,
and the fuel ships themselves, must be provided by means that _must
not fail_.
While the work of planning an offensive movement to a distant coast
is the most tedious and complex, the work of planning a defensive
measure against a sudden attack on the coast needs the most
concentration of effort; for whatever the plans require to be done
must be done at once. This necessitates that the orders to be issued
must be as few as possible; that they be as concise and clear as
possible; that the things to be done be as few and as simple as
possible, and that all possible foresight be exercised to prevent
any confusion or misunderstanding, or any necessity on the part
of any one for requesting more instructions.
When the fateful instant comes, the final command to mobilize puts
into execution whichever of the plans already made is to be followed;
and for this reason it is clear that the various plans must be
kept separate from each other, and each set of plans must include
all the various orders that must be signed for carrying it into
effect, including the particular word or phrase that directs the
execution of that particular set of plans.
It is the story that the final order to the British navy in the
early part of August, 1914, was the word "Go." All the units went
immediately, understandingly, unitedly; and the greatest machine
the world has ever known was almost instantly in operation at full
speed. No such stupendous feat, physically considered, had ever
been done before. The mobilization of the Prussian army in 1870 and
of the German army about August 1, 1914, were as great performances
mentally and strategically, but not physically, by reason of the
relative feebleness of the forces set in motion. This relative
feebleness was due, of course, to the insignificance of muskets
compared to navy guns, of railway-trains compared to battleships,
etc.--an insignificance far from being neutralized by the greater
number of the units, for one 14-inch shell has an energy equal
to that of about 60,000 muskets, and no army contains anything
approximating the powerfulness of a battleship.
Not only, however, must the strategist make plans in peace for
preparations that culminate in mobilization, and simply insure
that the navy shall be ready in material and personnel when war
breaks; he must also make plans for operating the navy strategically
afterward, along each of the various lines of direction that the
war may take. In other words, the work of preparation strategy
in making war plans may be divided into two parts--mobilization
and operation.
The plans of mobilization deal naturally with all the activities
concerned, material and personnel, and endeavor to arrange a passing
from a state of peace to a state of war in the quickest possible time,
and with the least chance of errors and omissions. A considerable
degree of imagination is required, an almost infinite patience, and
a perfect willingness to work indefinitely without any reasonable
expectation of getting tangible results. A more hopeless task can
hardly be given any man or body of men than that of working out
plans, general and detailed, day after day, for contingencies that
will probably never happen, and to guard against dangers that will
probably never come; preparing tables, diagrams, and schedules
which are almost certainly doomed to rest forever in the sepulchre
of the confidential files.
Yet this work is basic. Perhaps it is for that reason, that it is
obscure and dull; basic work is apt to be so. The spectacular success
of an individual in any walk of life is often but the crowning of
the unrecognized, and often utterly unknown work--of other men.
Strategy is not a science only; it is an art as well; and although
the art cannot be practised in its perfection until after the science
is well comprehended, yet the art of strategy was born before the
science was. This is true of all those departments of man's activity
that are divided into sciences and arts, such as music, surgery,
government, navigation, gunnery, painting, sculpture, and the rest;
because the fundamental facts--say of music--cannot even attract
attention until some music has been produced by the art of some
musician, crude though that art may be; and the art cannot advance
very far until scientific methods have been applied, and the principles
that govern the production of good music have been found. The unskilled
navigators of the distant past pushed their frail craft only short
distances from the land, guided by art and not by science; for no
science of navigation then existed. But the knowledge gradually gained,
passing first from adept to pupil by word of mouth, and afterward
recorded on the written and then the printed page, resulted first
in the realization of the fact that various apparently unrelated
phenomena were based on the same underlying principles; and resulted
later in the perception, and still later in the definite expression,
of those underlying principles. Using these principles, the navigator
expanded the limits of his art. Soon we see Columbus, superbly bold,
crossing the unknown ocean; and Magellan piercing the southern
tip of the American continent by the straits that now bear his
name.
But of all the arts and sciences, the art and science that are
the oldest and the most important; that have caused the greatest
expenditure of labor, blood, and money; that have been the immediate
instruments of more changes and greater changes in the history of
the world than any other, are the art and the science of strategy.
Until the time of Moltke the art of strategy, like most arts, was
more in evidence than the science. In fact, science of any kind is
a comparatively recent product, owing largely to the more exact
operations of the mind brought about by the birth of the science of
measurement, and the ensuing birth and development of the mechanic
arts. Before Moltke's time campaigns were won by wise preparation and
skilful execution, as they are now; but the strategical skill was
acquired by a general or admiral almost wholly by his own exertions
in war, and by studying the campaigns of the great commanders,
and reflecting upon them with an intensity that so embedded their
lessons in his subjective mind that they became a part of him, and
actions in conformity with those lessons became afterward almost
automatic. Alexander and Napoleon are perhaps the best illustrations
of this passionate grasping of military principles; for though
both had been educated from childhood in military matters, the
science of strategy was almost non-existent in concrete form, and
both men were far too young to have been able to devote much time
or labor to it. But each was a genius of the highest type, and
reached decisions at once immediate and wise, not by inspiration,
but by mental efforts of a pertinacity and concentratedness impossible
to ordinary men.
It was because Von Moltke realized this, realized the folly of
depending on ability to get geniuses on demand, and realized further
the value of ascertaining the principles of strategy, and then
expressing them so clearly that ordinary men could grasp and use
them, that he conceived and carried into execution his plan; whereby
not only actual battles could be analyzed, and the causes of victory
and defeat in each battle laid bare to students, but also hypothetical
wars and battles could be fought by means of problems given.
The first result of a course of study of such wars and battles, and
practice with such problems, was a skill in decision a little like
that developed in any competitive game, say tennis, whist, chess,
poker, boxing, and the like--whereby any action of your adversary
brings an instantaneous and almost automatic reply from you, that you
could not have made so skilfully and quickly before you had practised
at the game; and yet the exact move of your adversary, under the
same conditions, you had never seen before. Of course, this skill
was a development, not of the science, but of the art, as mere skill
always is; but as skill developed, the best methods for obtaining
skill were noted; and the principles governing the attainment of
success gradually unveiled themselves, and were formulated into
a science.
Naturally, strategy is not an exact science like mathematics, physics,
or engineering--at least not now. Whether it ever will be cannot be
foretold. The reason that strategy (like medicine and most other
sciences concerning human beings) is not an exact science is simply
because it involves too many unknown quantities--quantities of
which our knowledge is too vague to permit of our applying exact
methods to them, in the way in which we apply exact methods to the
comparatively well-known quantities and elements in the so-called
"exact sciences." But a science may be a science even if it is
not an exact science; we may know certain important principles
sufficiently well to use them scientifically, even if we do not
know them with sufficient exactness to permit us to use them as
confidently as we should like. We may know, for instance, that it
is folly to divide a military force in the presence of an active
enemy into such small forces, and at such distances apart, as to
let the enemy defeat each small force, one after the other, even
if we do not know exactly how far it would be safe to separate
two forces of a given size, in the presence of an enemy of a given
power. It is well to know a fact in general terms, even if we do
not know it in precise terms: it is well to know in general terms
that we must not take prussic acid, even if we do not know exactly
how much is needed to kill.
So the studies and problems instituted by Von Moltke, and copied
in all the armies and navies of the world, have brought about a
science of strategy which is real, even though not exact, and which
dwells in the mind of each trained strategist, as the high tribunal
to which all his questions are referred and by whose decisions he
is guided; just as the principles of medicine are the guide alike
of the humblest and the most illustrious practitioner, wherever
the beneficent art of medicine is practised.
It is clear that, in order to be skilful in strategy (in fact,
in any intellectual art), not only must a man have its scientific
principles firmly imprinted on his mind, but he must make its practice
so thoroughly familiar to his mental muscles that he can use strategy
as a _trained_ soldier uses his musket--automatically. Inasmuch as
any man requires years of study and practice--say, of chess--in
order to play chess well enough to compete successfully with
professional chess-players, it seems to follow that any man must
require years of study and practice of the more complicated game
of strategy, in order to play strategy well enough to compete
successfully with professional strategists. The game of chess looks
easy to a beginner; in fact, the kind of game that he thinks chess
to be is easy. But after he has learned the moves, he finds the
intricacies of the game developing more rapidly than he can master
them, and discovers that chess is a game which some men spend their
lifetime studying. The full realization of this fact, however, does
not come to him until after defeats by better players have forced
into his consciousness the almost infinite number of combinations
possible, the difficulty of deciding on the correct move at any
juncture, and the consequences that follow after wrong moves.
So with strategy. The ease and certainty with which orders can be
transmitted and received, the precision with which large forces
can be quickly despatched from place to place, and the tremendous
power exertable by those forces, tend to blind the mind to the
fact that transferring any force to any place is merely making a
"move," and that the other player can make moves, too. If a man
were never to be pitted in strategy against another player, either
in games or in actual war, the "infinite variety" of strategy would
never be disclosed to his intelligence; and after learning how
to make the moves, he might feel willing to tackle any one.
Illustrations of this tendency by people of great self-confidence
are numerous in history, and have not been missing even in the
present war, though none have been reported in this country as
occurring on the Teuton side. There has always been a tendency
on the part of a ruling class to seize opportunities for military
glory, and the ambition has often been disproportioned to the
accompanying ability and knowledge--sometimes on the part of a
King, prince, or man of high nobility, sometimes on the part of
a minister, sometimes on the part of an army or navy man, who has
been indebted to political or social influence for his place. But
within the past fifty years, especially since the establishment
of the General Staff in Prussia and the studies of Von Moltke,
the overshadowing importance of strategy has been understood, the
necessity of comprehending its principles and practising its technic
has been appreciated, and attempts to practise strategy by persons
inexpert in strategy have been deprecated.
The game of strategy, while resembling in many ways the game of
chess, differs from it, of course, in the obvious element of personal
danger. It also differs from it in an equally important but less
obvious way--its relation to the instruments employed; for in chess
those instruments (pieces) are of a number and character fixed by
the rules of the game; whereas in strategy the number and character
of the instruments (ships, etc.) employed are determined by strategy
itself, assisted by engineering. Germany realizes this, and therefore
has established and followed a system whereby the character of
the various material and personnel units of the navy, and even
the number of them (under the restrictions of the money alloted),
are decided by a body of men who are highly trained in strategy
and engineering.
There is an intimate connection between policy and strategy, and
therefore between naval policy and naval strategy; and while it
is difficult to draw the line exactly which separates policy and
strategy, it may be said in general that policy is the concern of
the government, and strategy is the concern of the navy and army,
to be employed by them to carry out the policy.
As naval policy and naval strategy are so intimately connected in
their essence, it is apparent that the naval policy of a country
and its naval strategy should be intimately connected in fact; for
the policy cannot be properly carried out if the strategy that tries
to execute it is not good, or if the policy requires more naval force
or skill than the navy can bring to bear; and the strategy cannot be
good if it is called upon to execute a policy impossible to execute,
or if the exact end in view of the policy is not distinctly known.
Some of the greatest mistakes that have been made by governments have
been made because of a lack of co-ordination between the government
and its navy, so that the policy and the strategy could not work
together. We see an illustration of this throughout the history
of France, whose civil and naval authorities have not worked
harmoniously together, whose naval strategy has apparently been
opportunistic and short-sighted, and whose navy in consequence
has not been so successful as the large sums of money spent upon
it might lead one to expect.
Across the English Channel we see a totally different state of
things. In Great Britain the development of the navy has been going
on for more than twelve hundred years, ever since King Offa declared
that "he who would be secure at home must be supreme at sea." For
about eight hundred years thereafter the development was carried
on energetically, but in an opportunistic fashion, following the
requirements of the hour. In 1632, however, the Board of Admiralty
was established; and with occasional interruptions, especially
prior to 1708, the board has continued in existence ever since.
A coherent policy of development has thereby been assured, and a
wisdom of strategy established which more than any other single
factor has made Great Britain the mistress of the seas, and almost
the mistress of the world.
The wisdom of her strategy has been due largely to the fact of
the close touch maintained between the civil government, including
Parliament, and the navy; for by its very constitution the Board
of Admiralty includes some of the highest officers of Parliament,
the cabinet, and the navy. Its presiding officer is a member of
the cabinet, and also member of Parliament; four of the officers
are naval officers, high in rank, character, and attainments; and
the junior civil lord is a civilian versed in naval matters. All
the orders for great movements of the fleets and ships are directed
by this board and signed by its secretary, the board, by a fiction
of the law, being considered an individual replacing the lord high
admiral--which it did, in 1632. The board is supposed to meet every
day with all the members present, the vote of each member carrying
as much weight as that of any other member. Naturally, the first
lord of the admiralty being a cabinet officer and a member of
Parliament, has a far greater influence on broad questions than
any other member; and the first sea lord being the person of the
most experience in naval matters, has the most weight on strictly
naval questions. Theoretically, however, neither of these gentlemen
can carry a measure opposed to the others; and any member, even
a junior, has equal opportunity with the others to bring up and
discuss any question and to attempt to procure its passage by the
full board; but in 1869 the first lord at that time, Mr. Childers,
brought about a change whereby the first lord was made personally
responsible to the government. This vastly increased the power
of the first lord, relatively to the others.
Two other navies, the German and the Japanese, which with the British,
are the most efficient navies in the world, have systems somewhat
different from the British. In Germany and Japan the Emperor is
the head of the navy, and there is no civilian between him and
it. In Germany there is no minister of marine, unless the Emperor
himself may be said to be the minister, which he practically is;
and the navy is divided into three parts, each under an admiral.
The three parts are the General Staff, which deals with war plans
and fundamental questions; the naval cabinet, which deals with
matters of personnel; and the administrative section, which has
to do with questions of material, including money, and the getting
of money from Parliament. In Japan the minister of marine is by
law a naval officer, and under him is a chief of staff, also a
naval officer. The minister of marine has the direction of the
navy as a whole, but the ideas of the chief of staff are supposed
to be carried out in matters that are strictly naval. The Japanese
naval officer has a higher regard for the office of chief of staff
than for that of minister of marine, because it is given for
professional excellence only.
It might seem at first sight that in Germany and Japan there would
be danger of a lack of co-ordination between the civil and the
naval authorities, and a tendency for the navy to become unduly
self-assertive. Of course, one reason why there is no such danger
is that the governments of those countries are controlled by men
who, though civilians, have great knowledge of international affairs,
and of military and naval subjects; another reason is that the navy
is so vital a matter, accurate knowledge about it is so general,
and interest in it so wide-spread and intense, that there is no
great gulf fixed between naval people and civilians. Still another
reason is the fact that in each country the Emperor is trained in
military and naval duties as well as in civil duties, and therefore
can effect in his own person the co-ordination of the civil and
the naval authority: that is, of policy and strategy.
Such automatic and complete co-ordination is desirable not only in
preventing the unnatural barrier between the civil and the military
authority which exists in some countries such as ours, but in lightening
the labors and enlightening the deliberations of the strategists.
If, for instance, a bold policy is to be enforced, and a large
sum of money allotted for material and personnel, the strategists
will be led to recommendations different from those to which they
would be led if a cautious policy were to be pursued, and a small
sum of money to be allotted.
Germany did not turn her eyes seriously toward the navy until the
Emperor William II read Mahan's book, "The Influence of Sea Power
upon History." Previous to that epochal event, Germany had relied
on her army to protect her interests and enforce her rights, being
led thereto by the facts of her history and the shortness of her
coast-line. But the strategically trained mind of William grasped
at once the situation laid bare by Mahan; and his military training
led him to quick decision and prompt action. The necessary machinery
was soon set in motion, with the amazing result that in twenty
years the German navy became the second in power and perhaps the
first in efficiency in the world.
Was this feat accomplished by prodigal expenditures in building vessels
and other material of all kinds, and enlisting and commissioning a
large number of officers and men? No, the expense was less than
that of building our navy, even if a liberal allowance be made for
the relative cheapness of things in Germany; and the mere enlisting
and commissioning of officers and men was the simplest part of the
undertaking.
How was it accomplished? In the simplest way imaginable: by following
Moltke's plan of solving hypothetical war problems, and adapting the
military war game (_Kriegspiel_) to naval forces; playing numberless
war games, and deciding from those games the naval strategy best
adapted to Germany's needs--not only in matters of general principle,
not only as to tactics, training, education, co-operation with the
army, and the size of fleet required to carry out the policy of
the nation--but also as to the composition of the fleet, relative
proportions of vessels of the various types, and the characteristics
of each type. Nothing was left to chance; nothing was decided by
guessing; no one man's dictum was accepted. The whole problem was
attacked in its entirety, and a general solution found; and after
this, the various divisions and subdivisions of the problem were
attacked and solved, in obedience to the same principles, in accordance
with the results obtained at _Kriegspiel_.
If a very large and complicated engine of new pattern is to be
built by any engineering company, no casting of the smallest kind
is made until general plans have been outlined, detailed plans
prepared from these, and then "working plans" made for the workmen.
From the working plans, the workmen construct the various parts;
sometimes in number several hundred. Finally, the whole intricate
machine is put together, and the motive power applied. Then all
the parts, great and small, begin their allotted tasks, each part
perfectly adapted to its work, not too large and not too small;
all working together in apparent confusion, but in obedience to
law--fulfilling exactly the will of the designing engineer. So,
the vast and new machine of the German navy was designed in the
drafting-room of the _Kriegspiel_; and though it has been gradually
strengthened and enlarged since then, each strengthening piece and
each addition has been designed in accordance with the original
plan, and has therefore harmonized with the original machine. Thus
the navy has expanded smoothly, symmetrically, purposefully. No
other result was to be expected: the strategy having been correct,
the result was correct also.
Perhaps one contributing factor to the success of the German navy
has been her staff of officers highly trained in strategy by
_Kriegspiel_, that insures not only sound advice in general, but
also insures that at any time, night or day, a body of competent
officers shall be ready at the admiralty to decide what action
should be taken, whenever any new situation is reported. This factor
is most important; because in naval and military operations, even
in time of peace, but especially in war, events follow each other
so rapidly, and momentous crises develop so suddenly, that the
demand for action that shall be both wise and instantaneous is
imperative. The chess-player can linger long over his decisions,
because his opponent cannot make his next move meanwhile; but in
warfare no such rule or condition can exist. In war, time is as
vital a factor as any other: and the strategist, who, like Napoleon,
can think faster and decide more quickly and accurately than his
antagonist is, _ceteris paribus_, sure to win; and even if _ceteris_
are not quite _paribus_, his superior quickness and correctness
will overcome great handicaps in material and personnel, as the
lives of all the great strategists in history, especially Alexander
and Napoleon, prove convincingly. To bring a preponderating force
to bear at a given point ahead of the enemy--to move the maximum
of force with the maximum of celerity--has always been the aim
of strategy: and probably it always will be, for the science of
strategy rests on principles, and principles never change.
Thus while we see in Great Britain's navy an example of the effect
of a strategy continuous and wise, conducted for three hundred years,
we see in the Japanese and German navies equally good examples of a
strategy equally wise, but of brief duration, which started with
the example of the British navy, and took advantage of it.
The German and Japanese navies did not follow the British navy
slavishly, however; for the national military character of their
people required the introduction and control of more military and
precise methods than those of the primarily sailor navy of Great
Britain. We see, therefore, a curious similarity between the German
and Japanese navies, and very clear evidence in each of the engrafting
of purely military ideals on maritime ideas. And we see not only
this, we see the reaction on the British navy itself of the ideals
of the German and the Japanese, and a decided change during the
last ten years from the principles of "the blue-water school";
as evidenced mainly by the institution of a Naval War College,
including a war staff, the employment at the admiralty of General
Staff methods, though without the name; and the introduction into
naval methods, especially naval gunnery, of mathematical procedures.
Previous to the Japanese-Russian War, ten years ago, the strategy
of the British navy may be characterized as physical rather than
mental, depending on a superior number of ships and men; those
ships and men being of a very high grade individually, and bound
together by a discipline at once strict and sympathetic. All the
personnel from the highest admiral to the humblest sailor prided
themselves on being "British seamen," comrades of the sea, on whom
their country placed her ultimate reliance. Maneuvers on a large
scale were held, target practice was carried on with regularity--and
navy ships carried the banner of Saint George over every sea, and
displayed it in every port. Tactics and seamanship filled the busy
days with drills of many kinds; but strategy, though not quite
forgotten, did not command so large a portion of the officers'
time and study as it did in Germany and Japan. The rapid success
of the Germans and Japanese, however, in building up their navies,
as instanced by the evident efficiency of the German fleet almost
under the nose of England, and the triumph of the Japanese fleet in
Tsushima Strait startled the British navy out of her conservatism,
and caused her to proceed at full speed toward the modernization
of her strategy. With the quick decision followed by quick action
that characterizes the seaman everywhere, the British instituted
a series of reforms, and prosecuted their efforts with such wisdom
and such vigor, that, in the brief space of ten years, the British
navy has been almost revolutionized. As in all such movements,
the principal delay was in bringing about the necessary mental
changes; the mental changes having been accomplished, the material
changes followed automatically.
The change whereby the German and Japanese navies became preceptors
to their preceptor is like changes that occur in every-day life, and
is one of many illustrations of how a young and vigorous individual
or organization, endowed with proper energy and mentality, can
appropriate whatever is valuable for its purposes from its elders,
and reject whatever those elders have had fastened on them by
circumstances or tradition, and develop a superior existence. It
is a little like the advantage which a comparatively new city like
Washington has over an old city like Boston, in being started after
it was planned, instead of being started haphazard, without being
planned at all.
The United States navy was started not like the city of Washington,
but like the city of Boston. It was modelled on the British navy;
but since the United States has never taken an interest in its
navy at all comparable with that taken by Great Britain in its
navy, and since our navy has been built up by successive impulses
from Congress and not in accordance with a basic plan, the lack of
harmoniousness among its various parts reminds one of Boston rather
than of Washington. Owing to the engineering and inventive genius of
our people and the information we got from Europe, inferiority has
not occurred in the units of the material: in fact, in some ways
our material is perhaps the best of all. Neither has inferiority
been evidenced in the personnel, as individuals; for the excellent
physique and the mental alertness of the American have shown themselves
in the navy as well as in other walks of life.
In strategy, however, it must be admitted that we have little reason
to be proud. We do very well in the elementary parts of the naval
profession. In navigation, seamanship, gunnery, and that part of
international law that concerns the navy we are as good as any.
But of the higher branches, especially of strategy, we have little
clear conception. How can we have? Strategy is one of the most
complex arts the world contains; the masters in that art have borne
such names as Alexander, Cæsar, Nelson, and Napoleon. Naval strategy
is naval chess, in which battleships and other craft take the place
of queens and other pieces. But it is a more complicated game than
chess, for the reason that not only are there more kinds of "pieces,"
but the element of time exerts a powerful influence in strategy while
it does not even exist in chess. The time element has the effect not
only of complicating every situation, but also of compelling intense
concentration of mind, in order to make decisions quickly; and often
it forces decisions without adequate time for consideration, under
circumstances of the utmost excitement, discomfort, and personal
peril.
One dislikes intensely to criticise his own country, even to himself.
But when a naval officer is studying--as he should continually do--what
must be done, in order to protect his country from attack by some
foreign foe, it would be criminal folly for him to estimate the
situation otherwise than honestly; and to do this, it is necessary
to try to see where his country is weak and where strong, relatively
to the possible foes in question. If we do this, and compare the
strategical methods employed by--say Germany and us--we are forced
to admit that the German methods are better adapted to producing
economically a navy fitted to contend successfully in war against
an enemy. In Germany the development of the navy has been strictly
along the lines of a method carefully devised beforehand; in our
country no method whatever is apparent, at least no logical method.
Congress, and Congress alone, decides what vessels and other craft
shall be built, how many officers and men shall wear the uniform.
It is true that they consult the report of the secretary of the
navy, and ask the opinions of some naval officers; and it is true
that the secretary of the navy gets the opinions of certain naval
officers including the General Board, before making his report.
But both the secretary and Congress estimate the situation from
their own points of view, and place their own value on the advice
of naval officers. And the advice of these naval officers is not
so valuable, possibly, as it might be; for the reason that it is
really irresponsible, since the advisers themselves know that it
will not be taken very seriously. The difference between the advice
of men held responsible for the results of following their advice,
and the advice of men not so held responsible, is well recognized,
and is discussed fully in the reports of the Moody and the Swift
Boards on the organization of the Navy Department. Furthermore,
our officers do not have the machinery of the _Kriegspiel_ to help
them. It is true that at the Naval War College, a war-game apparatus
is installed and that war games are played, and war problems solved;
but the officers there are very properly engaged in the regular
work of a war college, in educating officers in the principles
of warfare, and have little time for other work. It is also true
that the war games and problems there do lead occasionally to
recommendations by the War College to the General Board as to various
matters; but the connection between the conclusions of the War
College and the decisions of Congress via the General Board and
the secretary of the navy is so fragile and discontinuous, that
it may truthfully be said that the influence of the war games at
our War College has but a faint resemblance to the determining
force of the _Kriegspiel_ in Berlin.
It is often said that Germany is an empire and the United States
a republic, and that _therefore_ the military methods of Germany
cannot be employed here. The inference is not necessarily correct,
however, as is shown by the excellence of the army of France; for,
France, although a republic, insists that military strategy only
shall control and direct the army. The American Congress can do
the same with the American navy. Whether Congress shall so decide
or not, the decision will undoubtedly be wise; and we of the navy
will do our utmost to make the navy all it should be. In this
connection, it should be noted that:
1. Germany has been following a certain strategic system regarding
the navy; we a system different from that of any other navy, which
has been used now for about one hundred and forty years. Both systems
have been in operation for a time sufficiently long to warrant our
comparing them, by comparing the results they have achieved.
2. The German navy has been in existence a much shorter time than
the American navy, belongs to a much less populous and wealthy
country, and yet is not only about 30 per cent larger in material,
and more than 100 per cent larger in trained personnel, but if
we judge by maneuvers carried on in both peace and war, is much
better in organization, morale, and capacity for doing naval work
upon the ocean. We do not, of course, know what Germany has been
doing since the war began on August 1, 1914; but all accounts show
that Germany, like all the other belligerent Powers, has been adding
units of material and personnel to her navy much more rapidly than
they have been destroyed; as well as perfecting her strategy, under
the influence of the war's stimulus. Leaving out of consideration,
however, what she may have been doing since the war began, and
neglecting any unauthenticated accounts of her status before it
started, we know positively that in 1913 the maneuvers of the German
fleet were executed by a force of 21 battleships, 3 battle cruisers,
5 small cruisers, 6 flotillas of destroyers (that is 66 seagoing
torpedo vessels), 11 submarines, an airship, a number of aeroplanes
and special service ships, and 22 mine-sweepers--all in one fleet,
all under one admiral, and maneuvered as a unit. _This was nearly
three years ago, and we have never come anywhere near such a
performance_. In January, 1916, the United States Atlantic fleet,
capable as to both material and personnel of going to sea and
maneuvering together, consisted of 15 battleships and 23 destroyers,
2 mine-depot ships, and 1 mine-training ship, and 4 tugs fitted
as mine-sweepers--with no submarines, no aircraft of any kind, no
scouts (unless the _Chester_ be so considered, which was cruising
alone off the coast of Liberia, and the _Birmingham_, which was
flag-ship to the destroyer flotilla). This was the only fleet that
we had ready to fight in January, 1916; because, although more
battleships could have been put into commission, this could have
been done only by putting out of commission certain smaller vessels,
such as cruisers and gunboats; and the battleships would have had
to be put into commission very hurriedly, filled up with men fresh
from other ships, and no more ready to fight in the fleet against
an enemy (whose ships were fully manned with well-trained officers
and men, accustomed to the details of their respective ships, and
acquainted with each other) than the _Chesapeake_ was ready to
fight the _Shannon_.
3. In case our system is not so good as that of--say Germany--or
of any other country having a system equally excellent, we shall
_never_ be able to contend successfully against that navy, under
equal strategic conditions, unless we have an excess over her in
numbers of personnel and material sufficient to counteract our
inferiority in efficiency.
The efficiency of a navy or an army is exactly what the strategic
system makes it. Eleven thousand Greeks under Miltiades, highly
efficient and thoroughly trained, defeated 100,000 Persians at
Marathon. A Greek fleet under Themistocies defeated and almost
destroyed a much larger Persian fleet at Salamis. With an army
of less than 35,000 men, but highly trained by Philip of Macedon,
his father, Alexander, in only twelve years conquered ten of the
most wealthy and populous countries of the world. Cæsar, Alaric,
Attila, Charlemagne, and all the great military men from the greatest
antiquity down to the present moment have trained and organized
bodies of soldiers and sailors, under systems suited to the times,
and then waged successful war on peoples less militarily efficient.
Cortez conquered Mexico, and Pizarro conquered Peru; the British,
French, and Spanish subdued the Indians of North America, and during
the latter half of the nineteenth century nearly all the land in
the world that was "unoccupied" by Europeans or their descendants
was taken in possession by European Powers. Great Britain is now
mistress of about one-quarter of the land and the population of
the globe. Russia, France, Germany, and the United States govern
most of the remainder.
These results were brought about almost solely by the exercise
of military force:--and of this force, physical courage was not a
determining element, because it was just as evident in the conquered
as in the conquerors. The determining element was strategy that
(under the behest of policy) prepared the military and naval forces
in material and personnel before they were used, and directed their
operations, while they were being used.
Of all the single factors that have actually and directly made the
history of the world, the most important factor has been strategy.