PREPARING THE ACTIVE FLEET
John Clerk, of Eldin, Scotland, never went to sea, and yet he devised
a scheme of naval tactics, by following which the British Admiral
Rodney gained his victory over the French fleet between Dominica
and Guadeloupe in April, 1782. Clerk devised his system by the
simple plan of thinking intently about naval actions in the large,
disregarding such details as guns, rigging, masts, and weather, and
concentrating on the movements of the fleets themselves, and the
doings of the units of which those fleets were made. He assisted
his mental processes by little models of ships, which he carried in
his pockets, and which he could, and did, arrange on any convenient
table, when he desired to study a problem, or to make a convert.
He was enabled by this simple and inexpensive device to see the
special problems of fleet tactics more clearly than he could have
done by observing battles on board of any ships; for his attention
in the ships would have been distracted by the exciting events
occurring, by the noise and danger, and by the impossibility of
seeing the whole because of the nearness of some of the parts.
The amazing result was that he formed a clearer concept of naval
tactics than any admiral of his time, finally overcame the natural
prejudice of the British navy, and actually induced Rodney to stake
on the suggestion of a non-military civilian his own reputation
and the issue of a great sea fight. Furthermore, the issue was
crowned with success.
Nothing could be simpler than Clerk's method. It was, of course,
applied to tactics, but similar methods are now applied to strategy;
for strategy and tactics, as already pointed out, are based on
similar principles, and differ mainly in the fact that strategy
is larger, covers more space, occupies more time, and involves
a greater number of quantities.
Most of the books on naval strategy go into the subject historically,
and analyze naval campaigns, and also describe those measures of
foresight whereby nations, notably Great Britain, have established
bases all over the world and built up great naval establishments.
These books lay bare the reasons for the large successes that good
naval strategy has attained, both in peace and war, and constitute
nearly all there is of the science of naval strategy.
These books and this method of treating naval strategy are valuable
beyond measure; but officers find considerable difficulty sometimes
in applying the principles set forth to present problems, because
of the paucity of data, the remoteness in time and distance of
many of the episodes described, and the consequent difficulty of
making due allowance for them. Now, no study of naval strategy can
be thoroughly satisfactory to a naval officer unless it assists
him practically to decide what should be done in order to make the
naval forces of his country, including himself, better in whatever
will conduce to victory in the next war. Therefore, at the various
war colleges, although the student is given books on strategy to
study, the major part of the training is given by the applicatory
method, an extension of Clerk's, in which the student applies his
own skill to solving war problems, makes his own estimate of the
situation, solves each problem in his own way (his solution being
afterward criticised by the staff), and then takes part in the
games in which the solutions presented are tried out. This procedure
recognizes the fact that in any human art and science--say medicine,
music, or navigation--it is the art and not the science by which
one gets results; that the science is merely the foundation on
which the art reposes, and that it is by practice of the art and
not by knowledge of the science that skill is gained.
This does not mean, of course, that we do not need as much knowledge
of the science of naval strategy as we can get; for the reason that
the naval profession is a growing profession, which necessitates
that we keep the application of the principles of its strategy
abreast of the improvements of the times, especially in mechanisms;
which necessitates, in turn, that we know what those principles
are.
The applicatory method bears somewhat the same relation to the
method of studying books and hearing lectures that exercises in
practical navigation bear to the study of the theory. There is
one difference, however, as applied to strategy and navigation,
which is that the science of navigation is clearly stated in precise
rules and formulæ, and the problems in practical navigation are
solved by assigning values to quantities like _a, b, c, d_, etc.,
in the formulæ, and working out the results by mathematics; whereas
in strategy, no exact science exists, there are no formulæ, and even
the number of assured facts and principles is small. For this reason
the art of strategy is more extensive and significant relatively
to its science than is the art of navigation to its science.
It is a defect of the historical system that it tends to make men do
as people in the past have done--to make them work by rule. Clerk's
method took no note of what had been done before, but confined
itself to working out what should be done at the moment (that is,
by what we now call the "applicatory method"), taking account of
conditions as they are. By combining the two methods, as all war
colleges do now, officers get the good results of both.
In the studies and exercises at the war colleges, note is taken
of the great events that have gone by, and of the great problems
now presented; by studying the historical events, and by solving
war problems of the present, a certain knowledge of the science
of naval strategy, and a certain skill in the art are gained. The
studies and the problems naturally are of war situations.
Yet every war situation was the result of measures taken in time
of peace. If these measures had been unwise on the part of one
side--say Blue--in the design of certain craft, or the adoption,
or failure of adoption, of certain plans, then Blue's strategic
situation in the war would be more unfavorable than it would have
been if the measures had been wise.
This proves that it is not only in war that strategy should be
consulted; that strategy should be made to perform important services
in peace as well; that strategic considerations should be the guide
to all measures great and small, that not only the major operations
in war, but also the minor preparations in peace, should be conducted
in accordance with the principles of strategy, and conform to its
requirements. By this means, and by this means only, does a system
of preparation seem possible in which all shall prepare with the
same end in view, and in which, therefore, the best results will
be secured in the least time and with the least labor.
The naval machine having been designed, the various parts having
been furnished by the administrative agencies directing personnel
and material, and the consumable stores having been provided by the
agencies of supply (all under the guidance and control of strategy,
and in accordance with the calculations of logistics), the next
step is the same as that with any other machine--to prepare the
machine to do its work.
The work that strategy has to do in accomplishing the preparation
is only in planning; but this planning is not limited to general
planning, for it extends to planning every procedure of training
and administration, no matter how great or how small. It plans the
mobilization of the navy as a whole, the exercises of the fleet,
the training of officers and men to insure that the plans for
mobilization and fleet exercises shall be efficiently carried out,
the exercises of the various craft, and of the various mechanisms
of all kinds in those craft, and even the drills of the officers
and men, that insure that the various craft and mechanisms shall
be handled well. This does not mean that strategy concerns itself
directly with the training of mess cooks and coal-passers; and
it may be admitted that such training is only under strategy's
general guidance. It may be admitted, also, that a considerable
part of the training of men in using mechanisms is caused by the
requirements of the mechanism itself; that practically the same
training is needed for a water-tender in the merchant service as
for a water-tender in the navy. Nevertheless, we must either declare
that the training of mechanicians in the nary has no relation to the
demands of preparation of the navy for war, or else admit that the
training comes under the broad dominion of strategy. To admit this
does not mean at all that the training of a naval radio electrician is
not directed in its details almost wholly by electrical engineering
requirements; it merely means that the training must be such as to
fulfil the requirements of strategy, for otherwise it would have
no value. No matter how well trained a man might be in radio work,
his work would be useless for naval purposes, if not made useful
by being adapted to naval requirements. The fact that strategy
controls the training of radio electricians through the medium of
electrical means is only one illustration of another important
fact, which is that in all its operations strategy directs the
methods by which results are to be attained, and utilizes whatever
means, even technical means, are the most effective and appropriate.
The naval machine having been designed as to both personnel and
material, strategy has nothing to do with the material in preparing
the machine for use, because the material parts are already prepared,
and it is the work of engineering to keep those material parts in
a state of continual preparedness.
It must be noted, however, that the naval machine differs from
most material machines in that its various parts, material as well
as personnel, are continually being replaced by newer parts, and
added to by parts of novel kinds. Strategy must be consulted, of
course, in designing the characteristics of the newer and the novel
parts; but this work properly belongs in the designing stage, and
not in the preparation stage.
Strategy's work, therefore, in preparing the naval machine for
work consists wholly in preparing the personnel. This preparing
may be divided into two parts--preparing the existing fleet already
mobilized and preparing the rest of the navy.
_Preparing the Fleet_.--The fleet itself is always ready. This
does not mean that, in time of profound peace, every ship in the
fleet has all its men on board, its chain hove short, and its engines
ready to turn over at a moment's notice; but it does mean that this
condition is always approximated in whatever degree the necessities
of the moment exact. Normally, it is not necessary to keep all the
men on board; but whenever, or if ever, it becomes so necessary,
the men can be kept on board and everything made ready for instant
use. It is perfectly correct, therefore, to say that, so far as it
may be necessary, a fleet in active commission is always ready.
_Training_.--Before this state of readiness can be attained, however,
a great deal of training has to be carried out; and this training
must naturally be designed and prosecuted solely to attain this
end. Unless this end be held constantly in view, and unless the
methods of training be adapted to attain it, the training cannot
possibly be effective. To go from any point to another point, one
must proceed in the correct direction. If he proceeds in another
direction, he will miss the point.
The training of the fleet naturally must be in doing the things
which the fleet would have to do in war. To decide what things
these will probably be, resort must be had to the teachings of
history, especially the most recent history, and to the teachings
of the war problem, the chart maneuver, and the game-board.
The part of the personnel which it is the most important to train
is, of course, the commander-in-chief himself; and no reason is
apparent for supposing that his training should be conducted on
principles different from those that control the training of every
other person in the fleet. Men being the same in general, their
qualities differing only in degree, it is logical to conclude that,
if a gun-pointer or coxswain is best trained by being made first
to understand the principles that underlie the correct performance
of his work, and then by being given a good deal of practice in
performing it, a commander-in-chief, or a captain, engineer, or
gunner, can be best trained under a similar plan. Knowledge and
practice have always been the most effective means of acquiring
skill, and probably will continue to be the best for some time
to come.
Owing to the fact that navies have been in existence for many years,
the general qualifications of efficient naval officers are fairly
well known; and they have always been the same in the most important
particulars, though the recent coming of scientific apparatus has
made available and valuable certain types of men not especially
valuable before this scientific apparatus appeared.
In all navies, and equally in all armies, the qualification that
has been the most important has been character. To insure, or rather
to do the utmost toward insuring, proper character in its officers,
all countries for many years have educated certain young men of
the country to be officers in the army and navy, and they have
educated young men for no other service. If knowledge were the
prime requirement, special training for young men would not be
needed; the various educational institutions could supply young
men highly educated; and if the government were to take each year
a certain number of graduates who could pass certain examinations,
the educational institutions would be glad to educate young men to
pass them. In securing young men of proper education and physique,
little difficulty would be found. Special schools could even give
sufficient instruction in military and maritime subjects to enable
young men to become useful in minor positions on shipboard and in
camp, after a brief experience there. In fact, for some of the
positions in the army and navy, such as those in the medical corps
and others, military or naval training is not needed, or exacted.
The truth of these remarks is not so obvious now as it was some
years ago, and it has never been so obvious in navies as in armies;
because education in the use of the numerous special appliances
used in ships could be given less readily by private instruction
than in the use of the simpler appliances used in armies. But even
now, and even in the navy, the course given at Annapolis is usually
termed a "training" rather than an education.
Yet even education, educators tell us, is more a matter of training
than a matter of imparting knowledge. This indicates that even
for the duties of civil life, the paramount aim of educators is
so to train the characters of young men as to fit them for good
citizenship.
We may assume, therefore, that the primary aim of governments in
preparing young men for the army and navy is to develop character
along the line needed for useful work in those services.
What is that line?
Probably nine officers in ten would answer this question with the
words, "the line of duty." This does not mean that officers are
the only people who should be trained to follow the line of duty;
but it does mean that, in military and naval schools, the training
is more devoted to this than in other schools, except, of course,
those schools that train young men for the priesthood or other
departments of the religious life. The analogy between the clerical
and the military professions in this regard has been pointed out many
times; but perhaps the closeness with which the medical profession
approximates both in its adherence to the line of duty has not been
appreciated as fully as it should be.
_Duty_.--The reason for the predominance of the idea of duty over
any other in naval training is due, of course, to a realization
of the fact that more can be accomplished by officers having a
strict sense of duty though otherwise lacking, than by officers
having any or all the other qualifications, but lacking the sense
of duty. As an extreme instance of the doubtful value of highly
trained officers who lack the sense of duty, we need but to point
to those traitors who, in the past, have turned their powers in
the hour of need against the cause they were engaged to fight for.
One cannot pursue the path of duty when that path becomes difficult
or disagreeable unless the sense of duty is so strong as to resist
the temptation to leave the path. To train a man to be strong in
this way, we train his character.
There are several ways in which a man is tempted to leave the line
of duty; of these perhaps the most important are danger, sloth,
and love of pleasure. No human being is perfectly strong along
any of these lines; and some are most tempted by danger, some by
sloth, and some by love of pleasure.
Sloth and the love of pleasure do not act as hinderances to efficiency
in the naval profession any more than they do in other callings.
There is no profession, business, or vocation, in which a man's
efficiency does not depend largely on his power of resistance to the
allurement of sloth and pleasure. In all walks of life, including
the usual routine of the naval life, these two factors are the
main stumbling-blocks to the success of any man. That is, they
are the main stumbling-blocks that training can remove or lessen;
the main stumbling-blocks in the way of his attaining that degree
of efficiency for which his mental and physical abilities themselves
would fit him. Natural abilities are not here considered; we are
considering merely what training can do to develop men as they
are for the naval life.
_Courage_.--Danger is the special influence to divert a man from
duty's line that is distinctive of the army and the navy; and therefore
to secure ability to overcome this influence is the distinct effort
of military training. To train a young man for the army, the training
naturally is directed toward minimizing the influence of one class
of dangers; while to train a young man for the navy, the training
must be directed toward minimizing the influence of another class.
Of course training toward courage in any line develops courage in
other lines; but nevertheless a naval training does not enable
a man to ride a plunging cavalry horse with equanimity; nor does
training as a cavalryman wholly fit a man to brave the dangers
of the deep in a submarine.
Thirty years ago, the present writer showed Commander Royal Bird
Bradford, U. S. N., the wonders of the U. S. S. _Atlanta_, the
first ship of what Americans then called "The New Navy." When I
showed Bradford the conning-tower, I remarked that many captains
who had visited the _Atlanta_ had said that they would not go into
the conning-tower in battle. To this Bradford replied: "The captain
who would not go into the conning-tower in battle would be very
brave, but he'd be a d----d fool."
The obvious truth of this remark, the intimate connection which
it suggested between courage and folly, and the fact often noted
in life that to be brave is often to be foolish, contrasted with
the fact that in all history the virtue of courage in men has been
more lauded than any other virtue, suggests that a brief inquiry
into the nature and influence of courage may be interesting.
The definitions of courage found in the dictionary are most
unsatisfactory, except that they say that the word "courage" comes
from the Latin "cor," the heart; showing that it is deemed a moral
quality, rather than physical or mental.
Yet the deeds of courage that history and fiction tell, have been
deeds of what we call "physical courage," in which heroes and heroines
have braved death and physical suffering. Far in the background
are deeds of "moral courage," though many wise men have told us
that "moral courage" is a quality higher than "physical courage,"
and more important.
It is a little difficult to make a clear picture of courage that
is physical, as distinguished from courage that is moral; or moral
as distinguished from physical. Courage seems to be a quality so
clearly marked as to be hardly qualifiable by any adjective except
an adjective indicating degree--such as "great" or "little"; but if
any other adjective may be applied to it, the adjective "moral" seems
to be the only one. For courage, no matter how or why displayed, is
from its very essence, moral. Strictly speaking, how can there be
any courage except moral courage? If a man braves death or physical
suffering, the quality that enables him to brave it is certainly
not physical; certainly it does not pertain to the physical body.
The "first law of nature" impels him to escape or yield; and it
impels him with a powerful force. If this force be not successfully
resisted, the man will yield.
Now the act of resisting a temptation to escape a physical danger is
due to a more or less conscious desire to preserve one's self-respect
and the respect of one's fellow men; and therefore, the best way in
which to train a man to be brave is to cultivate his self-respect
and a desire to have the respect of his fellow men; and to foster
the idea that he will lose both if he acts in a cowardly way.
Naturally, some men are more apt to be cowards as regards physical
dangers than are others; and men differ greatly in this way. Men
of rugged physique, dull imagination, and sluggish nerves are not
so prone to fear of physical danger, especially danger far ahead
in the future, as are men of delicate physique, keen imagination,
and highly strung nervous system; and yet men of the latter class
sometimes surpass men of the former class when the danger actually
arrives--they seem to have prepared themselves for it, when men
of the former class seem in a measure to be taken by surprise.
It is the attainment of physical courage, or courage to defy a
threat of physical injury, that military training aims at. That it
has done so successfully in the past, the history of the valiant
deeds of sailors and soldiers bears superabundant witness. This
courage has been brought out because it was essential. Courage is
to a man what strength is to structural materials. No matter how
physically strong and mentally equipped a man may be; no matter
how perfectly designed and constructed an engine may be, neither
the man nor the engine will "stand up to the work," unless the
courage in the one case, and the strength of the materials in the
other case, are adequate to the stress.
While perfect courage would enable a man to approach certain death
with equanimity, all that is usually demanded of a man is that he
shall dare to risk death, if need be. To do this successfully, a
great assistance is a knowledge that even if things look bad, the
danger is not so great as it appears. Therefore, training confronts
men frequently with situations that look dangerous, but which skill
and coolness can avert. In this way, the pupil becomes familiar
with the face of danger, and learns that it is not so terrible as
it seems. Nothing else makes a man so brave regarding a certain
danger as to have met that danger successfully before. This statement
must be qualified with the remark that in some cases a danger,
although passed successfully, has been known to do a harm to the
nervous system from which it never has recovered. This is especially
the case if it was accompanied with a great and sudden noise and
the evidence of great injury to others. In cases like this, the
shock probably comes too abruptly to enable the man to prepare
himself to receive it. The efficacy of a little preparation, even
preparation lasting but a few seconds, is worthy of remark. Two
theories connecting fear and trembling may be noted here: one that a
person trembles because he fears; the other, and later, that trembling
is automatic, and that a person fears _because he trembles_.
But the influence of fear is not only to tempt a man to turn his
back on duty and seek safety in flight, for it affects him in many
degrees short of this. Sometimes, in fact usually, it prevents the
accurate operation of the mind in greater or less degree. Here
again training comes to the rescue, by so habituating a man to
do his work in a certain way (loading a gun for instance) that
he will do it automatically, and yet correctly, when his mind is
almost paralyzed for a time. A very few men are so constituted
that danger is a stimulus to not only their physical but their
mental functions; so that they never think quite so quickly and
so clearly as when in great danger. Such men are born commanders.
Discussion of such an abstract thing as courage may seem out of
place in a discussion of "Naval Strategy"; but while it is true
that naval strategy is largely concerned with mental operations,
while courage is a moral or spiritual quality, yet strategy concerns
itself with the securing of all means to victory, and of these means
courage is more important than any other one thing. One plan or
one system of training may be better than another; but they differ
only in degree, and if one plan fails another may be substituted;
but if courage be found lacking, there is no substitute on earth.
Now, if courage is to be inculcated by some system of training,
surely it is not amiss to devote a few minutes to an analysis of
the nature of courage, to seek what light we can get as to the
best methods of training to employ.
_Responsibility_.--There is one form of courage which most men
are never called upon to use, and that is willingness to take
responsibility. Most men are never confronted with a situation
requiring them to take it. To naval men, however, the necessity
comes often, even to naval men in the lower grades; for they are
often confronted with situations in which they can accept or evade
responsibility. That courage is needed, no one can doubt who has
had experience. To accept responsibility, however, is not always
best either for the individual or for the cause; often it were
better to lay the responsibility on higher authority, by asking for
instructions. But the same remark is true of all uses of courage;
it is not always best to be brave, either for the individual or for
the cause. Both the individual and the cause can often be better
served by Prudence than by her big brother Courage. When, however,
the conditions require courage in any form, such as willingness to
accept responsibility, the man in charge of the situation at the
moment must use courage, or--fail. In such cases the decision rests
with the man himself. He cannot shift it to another's shoulders,
even if he would. Even if he decides and acts on the advice of
others, the responsibility remains with him.
_From the Top Down, or from the Bottom Up?_--There are two directions
in which to approach the subject of training the personnel--from
the top down, and from the bottom up. The latter is the easier
way; is it the better?
The latter is the easier way, because it is quicker and requires
less knowledge. In training a turret crew in this way, for instance,
one does not have to consider much outside of the turret itself.
The ammunition can be sent up and down, and the guns can be loaded,
pointed, and fired with just as much quickness and accuracy as is
humanly practicable, without much reference to the ship itself,
the fleet, or the navy. In fact, knowledge of outside requirements
hinders in some ways rather than advances training of this kind.
Knowledge, for instance, of the requirements of actual battle is a
distinct brake on many of the activities of mere target practice.
But while it is easier to train in this way all the various bodies
of men that must be trained, it is obvious that by training them
wholly without reference to the requirements of the fleet as a
whole, the best result that we could expect would be a number of
bodies of men, each body well trained as a unit, but the combined
units not trained at all as component elements of the whole. The
result would be a little like what one would expect from the efforts
of an orchestra at playing a selection which the whole orchestra
had never played before together, but of which each member of the
orchestra had previously learned his part, and played it according
to his own ideas, without consulting the orchestra leader.
By approaching the subject from the other direction, however, that
is, from the top, the training of each organization within the
fleet is arranged with reference to the work of the fleet as a
whole, the various features of the drills of each organization
being indicated by the conditions developed by that work. If this
plan be carried out, a longer time will be required to drill the
various bodies of men; but when it has been accomplished, those bodies
will be drilled, not only as separate bodies, but as sympathetic
elements of the whole.
Of course the desirability of drilling separate divisions of a
fleet, ana separate ships, turret crews, fire-control parties,
and what-not, in accordance with the requirements of fleet work
does not prevent them from drilling by themselves as often as they
wish--any more than the necessity of drilling in the orchestra
prevents a trombone player from practising on his instrument as
much as the police will let him.
Thus the fact of keeping a fleet together does more than merely
give opportunity for acquiring skill in handling the fleet itself,
and in handling the various ships so that they will work together
as parts of the fleet machine; because it shows each of the various
smaller units within the ships themselves how to direct its training.
For this reason, the idea so often suggested of keeping the fleet
normally broken up into smaller parts, those parts close enough
together to unite before an enemy could strike, is most objectionable.
It is impossible to keep the fleet together all the time, because of
needed repairs, needed relaxation, and the necessity for individual
drills that enable a captain or division commander to strengthen his
weak points; but nevertheless since the "mission" of training is
to attain fighting efficiency in the fleet as a whole, rather than
to attain fighting efficiency in the various parts; and since it
can be attained only by drilling the fleet as a whole, the decision
to keep the fleet united as much as practicable seems inevitably to
follow. Besides, the statement cannot be successfully controverted
that difficult things are usually not so well done as easy things,
that drills of large organizations are more difficult than drills
of small organizations, and that in every fleet the drills that
are done the worst are the drills of the fleet as a whole. How
could anything else be expected, when one considers how much more
often, for instance, a turret crew is exercised at loading than
the fleet is exercised at the difficult movement of changing the
"line of bearing"?
The older officers remember that for many years we carried on drills
at what we called "fleet tactics," though we knew they were only
tactical drills. They were excellent in the same sense as that in
which the drill of the manual of arms was excellent, or the squad
exercises given to recruits. They were necessary; but beyond the
elementary purpose of training in ship handling in fleet movements,
they had no "end in view"; they were planned with a limited horizon,
they were planned from the bottom.
_General Staff_.--In order to direct the drills of a fleet toward
some worthy end, that end itself must be clearly seen; and in order
that it may be clearly seen, it first must be discovered. The end
does not exist as a bright mark in the sky, but as the answer to a
difficult problem; it cannot be found by guessing or by speculating
or by groping in the dark. Strategy says that the best way in which
to find it is by the "estimate of the situation" method.
Owing to the fact that the commander-in-chief and all his personnel
are, by the nature of the conditions surrounding them, on executive
duty, the working out of the end in view of any extensive drills
seems the task of the Navy Department; while the task of attaining
it seems to belong to the commander-in-chief. Owing to the present
stage of electrical progress, the Navy Department has better means of
ascertaining the whole naval situation than has the commander-in-chief,
and if officers (General Staff) be stationed at the department
to receive and digest all the information received, and decide
on the best procedure in each contingency as it arises, the Navy
Department can then give the commander-in-chief the information he
requires and general instructions how to proceed.
This does not mean that the department would "interfere" with the
commander-in-chief, but simply that it would assist him. The area
of discretion of the commander-in-chief should not be invaded; for
if it be invaded, not only may orders be given without knowledge
of certain facts in the commander-in-chief's possession, but the
commander-in-chief will have his difficulties increased by the very
people who are trying to help him. He may be forced into disobeying
orders, a most disturbing thing to have to do; and he will surely
be placed in a position of continuous doubt as to what is expected
of him.
Of course, it must be realized that the difficulties of co-operating
with a commander-in-chief at sea, by means of even the most expert
General Staff, are of the highest order. It is hard to imagine any
task more difficult. It must be accomplished, however, or else
there will be danger all the time that the commander-in-chief will
act as he would not act if he had all the information that the
department had. This suggests at once that the proper office of
the department is merely to give the commander-in-chief information
and let him act on his own judgment. True in a measure; but the
commander-in-chief must be given some instructions, even if they
be general, for the reason that the commander-in-chief is merely
an instrument for enforcing a certain policy. Clearly, he must
know what the policy is, what the department desires; and the mere
statement of the department's desires is of itself an order. If
it is admitted that the commander-in-chief is to carry out the
orders of the department, it remains merely to decide in how great
detail those orders ought to be.
No general answer can be given to the question: "In what detail
shall the orders be?" The general statement can be made, however,
that the instructions should be confined as closely as practicable
to a statement of the department's desires, and that this statement
should be as clear as possible. If, for instance, the only desire
of the department is that the enemy's fleet shall be defeated, no
amplification of this statement is required. But if the department
should desire, for reasons best known to itself, that the enemy
should be defeated by the use of a certain method, then that should
be stated also. Maybe it would not be wise for the department to
state the method the employment of which is desired; maybe the
commander-in-chief would be the best judge of the method to be
employed. But maybe circumstances of governmental policy dictate
the employment of a certain method, even if militarily it is not
the best; and maybe also the department might prefer that method
by reason of information recently received, which it does not have
time to communicate in full.
Now, if it is desirable for the department to give the
commander-in-chief instructions, running the risk of invading his
"area of discretion," and of doing other disadvantageous things,
it is obvious that the department should be thoroughly equipped
for doing it successfully. This means that the department should
be provided not only with the most efficient radio apparatus that
can be secured, manned, of course, by the most skilful operators,
but also with a body of officers capable of handling that particular
part of the Navy Department's work which is the concentrated essence
of all its work, the actual handling of the naval forces. The usual
name given to such a body of officers is "General Staff."
Such bodies of officers have been developed in navies in recent
years, by a desire to take advantage of electrical appliances which
greatly increase the accuracy and rapidity of communication over
long distances. In days not long ago, before communication by radio
was developed, commanders on the spot were in possession of much
more information about events in their vicinity, compared with
the Navy Department, than they are now; and the difficulties and
uncertainties of communication made it necessary to leave much more
to their discretion and initiative. The President of the United
States can now by telephone talk to the commander-in-chief, when
he is in home waters, and every day sees some improvement in this
line. This facility of communication carries with it, of course,
the danger of "interfering," one of the most frequent causes of
trouble in the past, in conducting the operations of both armies
and fleets--a danger very real, very insidious, and very important.
The very ease with which interference can be made, the trained
instinct of the subordinate to follow the wishes of his superior
if he can, the temptation to the superior to wield personally some
military power and get some military glory, conspire to bring about
interference. This is only an illustration, however, of the well-known
fact that every power can be used for evil as well as for good,
and is not a valid argument against developing to the utmost the
communication between the department and the fleet. It is, however,
a very valid argument against developing it unless there be developed
simultaneously some means like a "safety device" for preventing
or at least discouraging its misuse.
The means devised is the General Staff; and in some countries like
Germany it seems to work so well that (unless our information is
incorrect) the Emperor himself does not interfere. He gives the
machine a certain problem to work out, and he accepts the answer
as the answer which has a greater probability of being correct
than any answer he could get by other means.
_Training of the Staff_.--Now, if there is to be at the Navy Department
a body of men who will work out and recommend what instructions
should be given to the commander-in-chief, it seems obvious that
that body of men should be thoroughly trained. In the German army
the training of men to do this work (General Staff work) is given
only to officers specially selected. Certain young officers who
promise well are sent to the war college. Those who show aptitude
and industry are then put tentatively into the General Staff. Those
who show marked fitness in their tentative employment are then put
into the General Staff, which is as truly a special corps as is
our construction corps. How closely this system is followed with
the General Staff in the German navy, the present writer does not
know exactly; but his information is that the system in the navy
is copied (though with certain modifications) after the system in
the army.
How can the General Staff at the Navy Department be trained? In the
same way as that in which officers at the war college are trained:
by study and by solving war problems by tactical and strategical
games. The training would naturally be more extended, as it would
be a postgraduate course.
There is a difference to be noted between games like war games in
which the mental powers are trained, and games like billiards, in
which the nerves and muscles receive practically all the training;
and the difference refers mainly to the memory. Games of cards are
a little like war games; and many books on games of cards have
been written, expounding the principles on which they rest and
giving rules to follow. These books may be said to embody a science
of card-playing.
No such book on naval strategy has appeared; and the obvious reason
is that only a few rules of naval strategy have been formulated.
Staff training, therefore, cannot be given wholly by studying books;
but possibly the scheme suggested to the department by the writer,
when he was Aid for Operations, may be developed into a sort of
illustrative literature, which can assist the memory.
By this scheme, a body of officers at the Navy Department would
occupy their time wholly in studying war problems by devising and
playing strategical and tactical games ashore and afloat. After
each problem had been solved to the satisfaction of the staff, each
distinctive situation in the approved solution would be photographed
in as small a space as practicable, preferably on a moving-picture
film. In the solution of problem 99; for instance, there might be
50 situations and therefore 50 photographs. These photographs,
shown in appropriate succession, would furnish information analogous
to the information imparted to a chess student by the statement of
the successive moves in those games of chess that one sees sometimes
in books on chess and in newspapers. Now if the film photographs
were so arranged that the moves in the approved solution of, say,
problem 99 could be thrown on a screen, as slowly and as quickly
as desired, and if the film records of a few hundred such games
could be conveniently arranged, a very wide range of situations that
would probably come up in war would be portrayed; and the moves
made in handling those situations would form valuable precedents
for action, whenever situations approximating them should come up
in war.
It must be borne in mind that in actual life, our only real guide
to wise action in any contingency that may arise is a memory, more
or less consciously realized, of how a similar contingency has
been met, successfully or unsuccessfully, in the past. Perhaps
most of us do not realize that it is not so much experience that
guides us as our memory of experiences. Therefore in the training
of both officers and enlisted men in strategy, tactics, seamanship,
gunnery, engineering, and the rest, the memory of how they, or
some one else, did this well and that badly (even if the memory
be hardly conscious) is the immediate agency for bringing about
improvement.
Imagine now a strategical system of training for the navy, in which
a body of highly trained officers at the department will continuously
regulate the exercises of the fleet, guided by the revelations of
the _Kriegspiel:_ the commander-in-chief will direct the activities
of the main divisions of the fleet, carrying out the department's
scheme; the commander of each division will regulate the activities
of the units of his command in accordance with the fleet scheme;
the officer in command of each unit of each division will regulate
the activities of each unit in his ship, destroyer, submarine,
or other craft in accordance with the division scheme; and every
suborganization, in every ship, destroyer, or other craft will
regulate likewise the activities of its members; so that the navy
will resemble a vast and efficient organism, all the parts leagued
together by a common understanding and a common purpose; mutually
dependent, mutually assisting, sympathetically obedient to the
controlling mind that directs them toward the "end in view."
It must be obvious, however, that in order that the navy shall
be like an organism, its brain (the General Staff) must not be a
thing apart, but must be of it, and bound to every part by ties
of sympathy and understanding. It would be possible to have a staff
excellent in many ways, and yet so out of touch with the fleet
and its practical requirements that co-ordination between the two
would not exist. Analogous conditions are sometimes seen in people
suffering from a certain class of nervous ailments; the mind seems
unimpaired, but co-ordination between the brain and certain muscles
is almost wholly lacking.
To prevent such a condition, therefore, the staff must be kept in
touch with the fleet; and it must also permit the fleet to keep
in touch with the staff, by arranging that, accompanying the system
of training, there shall be a system of education which will insure
that the general plan will be understood throughout the fleet; and
that the means undertaken to execute it will be made sufficiently
clear to enable each person to receive the assistance of his own
intelligence. No man can do his best work in the dark. Darkness is
of itself depressing; while light, if not too intense, stimulates
the activities of every living thing.
This does not mean that every mess attendant in the fleet should
be put into possession of the war plans of the commander-in-chief,
that he should be given any more information than he can assimilate
and digest, or than he needs, to do his work the best. Just how
much information to impart, and just how much to withhold are
quantitative questions, which can be decided wisely by only those
persons who know what their quantitative values are. This is an
important matter, and should be dealt with as such by the staff
itself. To get the maximum work out of every man is the aim of
training; to get the maximum work that shall be effective in attaining
the end in view, training must be directed by strategy, because
strategy alone has a clear knowledge of what is the end in view.
_Stimuli_.--Some men are so slothful that exertion of any kind is
abhorrent to them; but these men are few, and are very few indeed
among a lot of healthy and normal men such as fill a navy. An office
boy, lazy beyond belief in the work he is engaged to do, will go
through the most violent exertions at a baseball game; and a darky
who prefers a soft resting-place in the shade of an umbrageous
tree to laboring in the fields will be stirred to wild enthusiasm
by a game of "craps."
Now why are the office boy and the darky stimulated by these games?
By the elements of competition, chance, and possible danger they
bring out and the excitement thereby engendered. Training, therefore
introduces these elements into drills as much as it can. Competition
alone does not suffice, otherwise all men would play chess; competition
and chance combined are not enough, or gentlemen would not need
the danger of losing money to make card games interesting; but
any game that brings in all three elements will rouse the utmost
interest and activity of which a man is capable. Games involving
these three elements are known by many names; one name is "poker,"
another name is "business," and another name is "politics." There
are many other games besides, but the greatest of all is strategy.
Now in the endeavor to prepare a fleet by training, no lack of
means for exciting interest will be found; in fact no other training
offers so many and so great a variety of means for introducing
the elements of competition, chance, and danger. The problem is
how best to employ them.
To do this successfully, it must be realized, of course, that the
greatest single factor in exciting interest is the personal factor,
since comparatively few men can get much interested in a matter
that is impersonal; a boy is more interested in watching a baseball
game in which he knows some of the players than in watching a game
between teams neither of which he has ever seen; and the men in
any ship are more interested in the competition between their ship
and some other than between any other two; feeling that _esprit de
corps_ by reason of which every individual in every organization
personifies the organization as a living thing of which he himself
is part.
_Strategic Problems_.--The training of the fleet, then, can best be
done under the direction of a trained staff, that staff generously
employing all the resources of competition, chance, and danger. The
obvious way to do this is to give out to the fleet for solution a
continual succession of strategic problems, which the entire fleet
will be engaged in solving, and which will be the starting-point
for all the drills of the fleet and in the fleet. (Some officers
prefer the word "maneuver" to "problem.")
The arranging of a continual series of war problems, or maneuvers
to be worked out in the fleet by "games," will call for an amount
of strategical skill second only to the skill needed for operations
in war, will deal with similar factors and be founded on similar
principles.
Naturally, the war problems, before being sent to the fleet for
solving, would be solved first by the staff, using strategical
and tactical games, and other appropriate means; and inasmuch as
the scheme of education and training is for the benefit of the
staff itself, as well as for the benefit of the fleet, certain
members of the staff would go out with the fleet to note in what
ways, each problem sent down was defective, in what ways good--and
in what ways it could be modified with benefit. The successive
situations and solutions, made first by the staff and subsequently
by the fleet, can then be photographed and made part of the history
of war problems, for the library of the staff.
In laying out the war problems, the staff will be guided naturally
by the ends in view--first to work out solutions of strategic,
logistic, and tactical situations in future wars, and second to
give opportunity to the various divisions, ships, turret crews,
engineers' forces, etc., for drills that will train them to meet
probable contingencies in future wars.
This double end will not be so difficult of attainment as might at
first sight seem, for the reason that the solution of any problem
which represents a situation actually probable will automatically
provide all the minor situations necessary to drill the various
bodies; and the more inherently probable a situation is, the more
probable will be the situations in which the various flag-officers,
captains, quartermasters, engineers' forces, turret crews, etc.,
will find themselves.
Of course, the prime difficulty in devising realistic problems is
the fact that in war our whole fleet would be employed together
against an enemy fleet; and as the staff cannot supply an enemy
fleet, it must either imagine an enemy fleet, divert a small part
of our fleet to represent an enemy fleet, or else divide our fleet
into two approximately equal parts, one "red," and one "blue."
_First Scheme_.--The first scheme has its usefulness in working
out the actual handling of the fleet as a whole; and considering
the purposes of strategy only, is the most important, though, of
course, "contacts" with the enemy cannot be simulated. From the
standpoint of fleet tactical drill, and the standpoint of that part
of strategy which arranges for handling large tactical situations
with success, it is useful, since it provides for the tactical
handling of the entire fleet. This certainly is important; for if
the personnel are to be so trained that the actual fleet shall be
handled with maximum effectiveness in battle, training in handling
that actual fleet must frequently be had; the fleet is a machine,
and no machine is complete if any of its parts is lacking.
It may be objected that it is not necessary for the staff at the
department to devise such training, because drills of the entire
fleet can be devised and carried out by the commander-in-chief;
in fact that that is what he is for. This, of course, is partly
true; and it is not the idea of the author that the staff in the
department should interfere with any scheme of drills that the
commander-in-chief desires to devise and carry out; but it is his
idea that the staff should arrange problems to be worked out by
the fleet, in which the tactical handling of the fleet should be
subordinate to, and carried out for, a strategic purpose.
A very simple drill would be the mere transfer of the fleet to a
distant point, when in supposititious danger from an enemy, employing
by day and night the scouting and screening operations that such a
trip would demand. Another drill would be the massing of previously
separated forces at a given place and time; still another would be
the despatching of certain parts of the fleet to certain points at
certain times. The problems need not be quite so simple as these,
however; for they can include all the operations of a fleet under
its commander-in-chief up to actual contact; the commander-in-chief
being given only such information as the approximate position,
speed, and course of the enemy at a given time, with orders to
intercept him with his whole force; or he may be given information
that the enemy has divided his force, that certain parts were at
certain places going in certain directions at certain speeds at
certain times, and he may be directed to intercept those supposititious
parts; that is, to get such parts of his fleet as he may think best
to certain places at certain times.
Of the strategic value to the staff of the practical solutions of
this class of problems by the fleet, there can be little question;
and the records made if kept up to date, would give data in future
wars for future staffs, of what the whole fleet, and parts of it
acting with the fleet, can reasonably be expected to accomplish,
especially from the standpoint of logistics. And it has the advantage
of dealing with only one thing; the actual handling of the actual
fleet, uncomplicated by other matters, such as interference by an
enemy. For the reason, however, that it leaves out of consideration
the effects of scouting and of contacts with the enemy, it is
incomplete.
_Second Scheme_.--To remedy this incompleteness, resort may be
had to the device of detaching a few vessels from the fleet and
making each represent a force of the enemy; one destroyer, for
instance, to represent a division, four destroyers four divisions,
etc. This scheme has the advantage that all the capital ships can
be handled together, and that, say three-quarters of the destroyers
can be handled without much artificiality on the assumption that
four-fourths are so handled; while for merely strategic purposes
four destroyers, properly separated, can represent four divisions
of destroyers very truthfully. This scheme is useful not only
strategically but tactically; for the reasons that the contacts
made are actual and visible, and that all the personnel on each
side are put to doing things much like those they would do in war.
The scheme is extremely flexible besides; for the number of ways
in which the fleet can be divided is very great, and the number
of operations that can be simulated with considerable accuracy
is therefore very great also. The training given to the personnel
of the fleet is obviously more varied, interesting, and valuable,
than in the first scheme; and the records of the solutions (games
played) will form instructive documents in the offices of the staff,
concerning situations which the first scheme could not bring out.
These records, naturally, will not be so simple as those under the
first scheme, because many factors will enter in, some of which
will bring up debatable points. For when actual contact occurs,
but only "constructive" hits by torpedo and gun are made, much
room for difference of opinion will occur, and many decisions will
be disputed.
To decide disputed questions must, of course, rest with the staff;
but those questions must be decided, and if correct deductions
from the games are to be made, the decisions must be correct. To
achieve correctness in decision the members of the staff must be
highly trained. To devise and develop a good scheme of staff training,
several years may be required.
_Third Scheme_.--The third kind of game is that in which the fleet
is divided into two parts, fairly equal in each of the various
elements, battleships, battle cruisers, destroyers, submarines,
aircraft, etc. This scheme gives opportunity for more realistic
situations than the other two, since each side operates and sees
vessels and formations similar to those that it would operate and
see in war; and it gives opportunity for games which combine both
strategical and tactical operations and situations to a greater
degree than do the other two schemes. Its only weakness is the
fact that the entire fleet is not operated as a unit; not even a
large fraction, but only about one-half. Like each of the other
two schemes, however, it has its distinctive field of usefulness.
Its main advantage is its realism--the fact that two powerful naval
forces, each composed of all the elements of a naval force, seek
each other out; or else one evades and the other seeks; and then
finally they fight a fairly realistic battle; or else one successfully
evades the other; or else minor actions occur between detachments,
and no major result occurs; just as happens in war.
Strategically, this scheme is less valuable than the other two;
tactically, more so. For the experience and the records of the
staff this scheme is less valuable than the other two, but for the
training of the fleet it is more so.
Of course, the division of games for staff and fleet training into
three general schemes is arbitrary, and not wholly correct; for
no such division really exists, and in practice it would not be
observed. The thought of the writer is merely to point out that,
in a general way, the schemes may be divided into three classes,
and to show the convenience of doing so--or at least of recognizing
that there are three general kinds of games, and that each kind
has its advantages and likewise its disadvantages.
In our navy, only three strategic problems or maneuvers, devised
at the department, have been worked out at sea--one in May, and
one in October, 1915, and one in August, 1916: all belonged in
the second category. They were devised by the General Board and
the War College, as we had no staff. The solving of the problems
by the commander-in-chief aroused the greatest interest not only
in the fleet, but in the Navy Department, in fact, throughout the
entire navy, and to a surprising degree throughout the country,
especially among the people on the Atlantic coast. Discussions
of the utmost value were aroused and carried on, and a degree of
co-operation between the department, the War College, and the fleet,
never attained before, was realized. If a routine could be devised
whereby such problems could be solved by practical games, say once
a month, and the results analyzed and recorded in moving-picture
form by the staff in Washington, we could see our way in a few
years' time to a degree of efficiency in strategy which now we
cannot even picture. It would automatically indoctrinate the navy
and produce a sympathetic understanding and a common aim, which
would permeate the personnel and make the navy a veritable organism.
It would attain the utmost attainable by any method now known.
Attention is respectfully invited to the fact that at the present
time naval strategy is mainly an art; that it will probably continue
so for many years; that whether a science of naval strategy will
ever be formulated need not now concern us deeply, and that the
art of naval strategy, like every other art, needs practice for
its successful use. Naval strategy is so vague a term that most
of us have got to looking on it as some mystic art, requiring a
peculiar and unusual quality of mind to master; but there are many
things to indicate that a high degree of skill in it can be attained
by the same means as can a high degree of skill in playing--say
golf: by hard work; and not only by hard work, but by doing the
same thing--or similar things--repeatedly. Now most of us realize
that any largely manual art, such as the technic of the piano,
needs frequent repetition of muscular actions, in order to train
the muscles; but few of us realize how fully this is true of mental
arts, such as working arithmetical or strategical problems, though
we know how easy it is to "get rusty" in navigation. Our mental
muscles and whatever nerves co-ordinate them with our minds seem to
need fully as much practice for their skilful use as do our physical
muscles; and so to attain skill in strategy, we must practise at
it. This means that all hands must practise at it--not only the
staff in their secret sanctuary, not only the commander-in-chief,
not only the division commanders, but, in their respective parts,
the captains, the lieutenants, the ensigns, the warrant officers,
the petty officers, and the youngest recruits. To get this practice,
the department, through the staff, must furnish the ideas, and the
commander-in-chief the tools. Then, day after day, month after
month, and year after year, in port and at sea, by night and by
day, the ideas assisted by the tools will be supplying a continuous
stimulus to the minds of all. This stimulus, properly directed
through the appropriate channels and devoted to wise purposes,
will reach the mess attendant, the coal-passer, and the recruit,
as well as those in positions more responsible (though not more
honorable); and as the harmony of operation of the whole increases,
as skill in each task increases, and as a perception of the strategic
_why_ for the performance of each task increases, the knowledge
will be borne in on all that in useful occupation is to be found
the truest happiness; that only uninterested work at any task is
drudgery; that interest in work brings skill, that skill brings
pleasure in exerting it; and that the greater the number of men
engaged together, and the more wise the system under which they
work, the greater will be the happiness of each man, and the higher
the efficiency of the whole.