CHAPTER X. The Preparation Of The Army

When one compares the conditions under which the Spanish American War

was fought with those of the Great War, he feels himself living in a

different age. Twenty years ago hysteria and sudden panics swept the

nation. Cheers and waving handkerchiefs and laughing girls sped the

troops on their way. It cannot be denied that the most popular song

of the war time was "There'll be a hot time in the old town to-night,"

though it may be believed that the energy and swing of the music rather

than the words made it so. The atmosphere of the country was one of

a great national picnic where each one was expected to carry his own

lunch. There was apparent none of the concentration of effort and of the

calm foresight so necessary for efficiency in modern warfare. For youth

the Spanish American War was a great adventure; for the nation it was a

diversion sanctioned by a high purpose.

This abandon was doubtless in part due to a comfortable consciousness

of the vast disparity in resources between Spain and the United States,

which, it was supposed, meant automatically a corresponding difference

in fighting strength. The United States did, indeed, have vast

superiorities which rendered unnecessary any worry over many of the

essentials which gripped the popular mind during the Great War. People

believed that the country could supply the munitions needed, and that

of facilities for transport it had enough. If the United States did not

have at hand exactly the munitions needed, if the transportation

system had not been built to launch an army into Cuba, it was

popularly supposed that the wealth of the country rendered such trifles

negligible, and that, if insufficient attention had been given to the

study of such matters in the past, American ingenuity would quickly

offset the lack of skilled military experience. The fact that

American soldiers traveled in sleeping cars while European armies

were transported in freight cars blinded Americans for a while to the

significant fact that there was but a single track leading to Tampa, the

principal point of embarkation for Cuba; and no one thought of building

another.

Nothing so strongly marks the amateur character of the conduct of the

Spanish War as the activity of the American press. The navy was dogged

by press dispatch boats which revealed its every move. When Admiral

Sampson started upon his cruise to San Juan, he requested the

press boats to observe secrecy, and Admiral Chadwick comments with

satisfaction upon the fact that this request was observed "fully and

honorably... by every person except one." When Lieutenant Whitney risked

his life as a spy in order to investigate conditions in Porto Rico; his

plans and purpose were blazoned in the press. Incredible as it may now

seem, the newspaper men appear to have felt themselves part of the army.

They offered their services as equals, and William Randolph Hearst even

ordered one of his staff to sink a vessel in the Suez Canal to delay

Camara on his expedition against Dewey. This order, fortunately for the

international reputation of the United States, was not executed. With

all their blare and childish enthusiasm, the reporters do not seem to

have been so successful in revealing to Americans the plans of Spain as

they were in furnishing her with itemized accounts of all the doings of

the American forces.

While the press not only revealed but formulated courses of action in

the case of the army, the navy, at least, was able to follow its own

plans. For this difference there were several causes, chief of which was

the fact that the navy was a fully professional arm, ready for action

both in equipment and in plans, and able to take a prompt initiative

in carrying out an aggressive campaign. The War Department had a more

difficult task in adjusting itself to the new conditions brought about

by the Spanish American War. The army was made up on the principle

traditionally held in the United States that the available army force in

time of peace should be just sufficient for the purposes of peace, and

that it should be enlarged in time of war. To allow a fair amount of

expansion without too much disturbance to the organization in increasing

to war strength, the regular army was over-officered in peace times. The

chief reliance in war was placed upon the militia. The organization

and training of this force was left, however, under a few very general

directions, to the various States. As a result, its quality varied and

it was nowhere highly efficient in the military sense. Some regiments,

it is true, were impressive on parade, but almost none of the officers

knew anything of actual modern warfare. There had been no preliminary

sifting of ability in the army, and it was only as experience gave

the test that the capable and informed were called into positions of

importance. In fact, the training of the regular officers was inferior

to that of the naval officers. West Point and Annapolis were both

excellent in the quality of their instruction, but what they offered

amounted only to a college course, and in the army there was no

provision for systematic graduate study corresponding to the Naval War

College at Newport.

These difficulties and deficiencies, however, cannot fully explain

the woeful inferiority of the army to the navy in preparedness.

Fundamentally the defect was at the top. Russell A. Alger, the Secretary

of War, was a veteran of the Civil War and a silver-voiced orator,

but his book on the "Spanish-American War," which was intended as

a vindication of his record, proves that even eighteen months of as

grueling denunciation as any American official has ever received could

not enlighten him as to what were the functions of his office. Nor did

he correct or supplement his own incompetence by seeking professional

advice. There existed no general staff, and it did not occur to him, as

it did to Secretary Long, to create one to advise him unofficially. He

was on bad terms with Major General Nelson A. Miles, who was the general

in command. He discussed even the details of questions of army strategy,

not only with Miles but with the President and members of the Cabinet.

One of the most extraordinary decisions made during his tenure of office

was that the act of the 9th of March, appropriating $50,000,000 "for

national defense," forbade money to be spent or even contracts to be

made by the quartermaster, the commissary, or the surgeon general. In

his book Secretary Alger records with pride the fact that all this money

was spent for coast defense. In view of the fact that the navy did its

task, this expenditure was absolutely unnecessary and served merely to

solace coast cities and munition makers.

The regular army on April 1, 1898, consisted of 28,183 officers and men.

An act of the 26th of April authorized its increase to about double that

size. As enlistment was fairly prompt, by August the army consisted

of 56,365 officers and men, the number of officers being but slightly

increased. It was decided not to use the militia as it was then

organized, but to rely for numbers as usual chiefly upon a volunteer

army, authorized by the Act of the 22d of April, and by subsequent acts

raised to a total of 200,000, with an additional 3000 cavalry, 3500

engineers, and 10,000 "immunes," or men supposed not to be liable to

tropical diseases. The war seemed equally popular all over the country,

and the million who offered themselves for service were sufficient to

allow due consideration for equitable state quotas and for physical

fitness. There were also sufficient Krag-Jorgensen rifles to arm the

increased regular army and Springfields for the volunteers.

To provide an adequate number of officers for the volunteer army was

more difficult. Even though a considerable number were transferred

from the regular to the volunteer army, they constituted only a small

proportion of the whole number necessary. Some few of those appointed

were graduates of West Point, and more had been in the militia. The

great majority, however, had purely amateur experience, and many not

even so much. Those who did know something, moreover, did not have the

same knowledge or experience. This raw material was given no officer

training whatsoever but was turned directly to the task of training the

rank and file. Nor were the appointments of new officers confined to the

lower ranks. The country, still mindful of its earlier wars, was charmed

with the sentimental elevation of confederate generals to the rank of

major general in the new army, though a public better informed would

hardly have welcomed for service in the tropics the selection of men old

enough to be generals in 1865 and then for thirty-three years without

military experience in an age of great development in the methods of

warfare. The other commanding officers were as old and were mostly

chosen by seniority in a service retiring at sixty-four. The unwonted

strain of active service naturally proved too great. At the most

critical moment of the campaign in Cuba, the commanding general, William

R. Shafter, had eaten nothing for four days, and his plucky second in

command, the wiry Georgian cavalry leader of 1864 and 1865, General

"Joe" Wheeler, was not physically fit to succeed him. There is not the

least doubt that the fighting spirit of the men was strong and did not

fail, but the defect in those branches of knowledge which are required

to keep an army fit to fight is equally certain. The primary cause for

the melting of the American army by disease must be acknowledged to be

the insufficient training of the officers.

This hit or miss method, however, had its compensations, for it brought

about some appointments of unusual merit. Conspicuous were those of

Colonel Leonard Wood and Lieutenant Colonel Theodore Roosevelt. The

latter had resigned as Assistant Secretary of the Navy, a position

in which he had contributed a great deal to the efficiency of that

Department, in order to take a more tangible part in the war. After

raising among his friends and the cowboys of the West a regiment

of "Rough Riders," he declined its command on plea of military

inexperience. Roosevelt made one of those happy choices which are a mark

of his administrative ability in selecting as colonel Leonard Wood, an

army surgeon whose quality he knew through common experiences in the

West.

To send into a midsummer tropical jungle an American army, untrained

to take care of its health, for the most part clothed in the regulation

army woolens, and tumbled together in two months, was an undertaking

which-could be justified only on the ground that the national safety

demanded immediate action. In 1898, however, it seemed to be universally

taken for granted by people and administration, by professional soldier

as well as by public sentiment, that the army must invade Cuba without

regard to its fitness for such active service. The responsibility for

this decision must rest upon the nation. The experience of centuries

had proved conspicuously that climate was the strongest defense of the

Caribbean islands against invasion, and it was in large measure the

very sacrifice of so many American soldiers that induced the study of

tropical diseases. In 1898 it could hardly be expected that the American

command, inexperienced and eager for action, should have recognized the

mosquito as the carrier of yellow fever and the real enemy, or should

have realized the necessity of protecting the soldiers by inoculation

against typhoid fever.

Fixed as was the determination to send an army into Cuba at the earliest

possible moment, there had been a wide diversity of opinion as to what

should be the particular objective. General Miles wavered between the

choice of the island of Porto Rico and Puerto Principe, a city in

the interior and somewhat east of the middle of Cuba; the Department

hesitated between Tunas on the south coast of Cuba, within touch of the

insurgents, and Mariel on the north, the seizure of which would be the

first step in a siege of Havana. The situation at Santiago, however,

made that city the logical objective of the troops, and on the 31st of

May, General Shafter was ordered to be prepared to move. On the 7th

of June he was ordered to sail with "not less than 10,000 men," but an

alarming, though unfounded, rumor of a Spanish squadron off the north

coast of Cuba delayed the expedition until the 14th. With an army

of seventeen thousand on thirty-two transports, and accompanied by

eighty-nine newspaper correspondents, Shafter arrived on the 20th of

June off Santiago.

The Spanish troops in Cuba--the American control of the sea made it

unnecessary to consider those available in Spain--amounted, according to

returns in April, 1898, to 196,820. This formidable number, however,

was not available at any one strategic spot owing to the difficulty of

transporting either troops or supplies, particularly at the eastern end

of the island, in the neighborhood of Santiago. It was estimated that

the number of men of use about Santiago was about 12,000, with 5000

approaching to assist. Perhaps 3000 insurgents were at hand under

General Garcia. The number sent, then, was not inadequate to the task.

Equal numbers are not, indeed, ordinarily considered sufficient for an

offensive campaign against fortifications, but the American commanders

counted upon a difference in morale between the two armies, which was

justified by results. Besides the American Army could be reinforced as

necessity arose.

The Path of Empire: A Chronicle of the United States as a World Power · 第 10 / 17 章