The importance of the question, however, does not rest on a personal basis, but a national basis. It makes no difference to the nation whether Smith is put above Jones, or Jones above Smith; and in all discussions of national matters it is essential to bear in mind clearly not only that national questions must not be obscured by the interjection of the personal element, but also that great vigilance is needed to prevent it. For the reason that questions of the salaries of government officials have been settled in advance, questions of personal prestige and authority are more apt to intrude themselves among them than among men in civil life, whose main object is to "make a living"—and as good a living as they can. In the long struggle that has gone on in the United States Navy Department between the advocates and the opponents of a General Staff, the personal element has clouded the question—perhaps more than any other element. Not only in the department itself, but in Congress, the question of how much personal "power" the General Staff would have has been discussed interminably—as though the personal element were of any importance whatever.

Such an attitude toward "power" is not remarkable when held by civilians, but it is remarkable when held by men who have had a military or naval training. Of course, there is an instinct in all men to crave power; but it is not recognized as an instinct wholly worthy. It is associated in most men's minds with a desire for material possessions, such as money or political position, and not with such aspirations as a desire for honor. In other words, a strong desire for wealth or power, while natural and pardonable, is considered a little sordid; while a desire for honor, or for opportunity to do good service, is held to be commendable. So, when public officials, either military or civilian, condemn a measure because it will give somebody "power," the reason given seems to be incomplete, unless a further reason is given which states the harm that would be done by conferring the "power."

Military and naval men exercise "power" from the beginning of their careers until their careers are closed; and they exercise it under the sane and restraining influence of responsibility; without which influence, the exercise of power is unjustifiable, and under which influence the exercise of power is a burden—and oftentimes a heavy one. That men trained as military men are trained, should aspire to power for power's own sake, is a little hard to understand—unless it be confessed that the person desiring the power appreciates its pleasing features more than its responsibilities, and regards its duties more lightly than its glories. Few men, even those who shoulder responsibility the most courageously, desire responsibility for its own sake—and so the fact of a man ardently desiring "power" seems a good reason for withholding power from him.

And what is "power," in the sense in which officials, both military and civilian, use the word? Is it ability to do good service, or is it ability to bestow favors in order that favors may be received, to give orders to others coupled with authority to enforce obedience, or to take revenge for injuries received or fancied? Of course, "power" is ability to do all these things, good and bad. But if a man desires power simply to do good service, and if he holds a highly conscientious view of the accompanying duties and responsibilities, will he crave "power" as much as some men seem to do?

It seems fundamental, then, that any strategic plan for preparing the Navy Department for war should be framed with a strong endeavor to leave out the personal element, and should regard national usefulness only. If this be done successfully, and if good selections be made of the personnel to do it, it will be found that the members of the personnel will think no more about their "power" than does an officer of the deck while handling a battleship in fleet formation during his four hours on the bridge.

In preparing the department for war, one would be in danger of being overwhelmed by the enormousness and the complexity of the task, unless he bore in mind continuously that it is only when we get into details that any matter becomes complex; and therefore that if we can get a clear idea of the whole subject, the principles that underlie it, and the major divisions into which it naturally is divided, we can then make those divisions and afterward subdivide those divisions, and later divide the subdivisions; so that the whole subject will seem to fall apart as a fowl does under the hands of a skilful carver. The divisions and subdivisions of the subject having been made, the remaining task, while onerous, will be largely a matter of copying and of filling in blank forms.

As all navy departments have means regulated by law such that the actual executive work of recruiting, constructing, and supplying the necessary personnel and material shall be done by certain bureaus and offices, strategy does not need executive power, except for forcing the bureaus and offices to do the necessary work—should such forcing become necessary. Strategy being the art of being a general (strategos), one cannot conceive of it as bereft of executive power, since we cannot conceive of a general exercising generalship without having executive power. It is true that strategy occupies itself mainly with planning—but so does a general; and it is also true that strategy itself does not make the soldiers march, but neither does a general; it is the colonels and captains and corporals who make the soldiers march. The general plans the campaign and arranges the marches, the halts, the bivouacs, provisions, ammunition, etc., through his logistical officers, and they give the executive officers general instructions as to how to carry out the general's plans.

Strategy without executive functions would be like a mind that could think, but was imprisoned in a body which was paralyzed.

Of course, strategy should have executive functions for the purposes of strategy only; under the guidance of policy and to execute policy's behests. Policy is the employer, and strategy the employee.



CHAPTER XI

NAVAL BASES

The nature of naval operations necessitates the expenditure of fuel, ammunition, and supplies; wear and tear of machinery; fatigue of personnel; and a gradual fouling of the bottoms of the ships. In case actual battles mark the operations, the expenditure of stored-up energy of all kinds is very great indeed, and includes not only damage done to personnel and material by the various agencies of destruction, but actual loss of vessels.

To furnish the means of supplying and replenishing the stored-up energy required for naval operations is the office of naval bases.

A naval base capable of doing this for a large fleet must be a very great establishment. In such a naval base, one must be able to build, dock, and repair vessels of all kinds, and the mechanisms needed in those vessels; anchor a large fleet in safety behind adequate military and naval protection; supply enough fuel, ammunition, and supplies for all purposes, and accommodate large reserves of material and personnel. Inasmuch as a naval base is purely a means for expending energy for military purposes, and has no other cause for its existence, it is clear that it cannot be self-supporting. For this reason it is highly desirable that a naval base shall be near a great city, especially if that city be a large commercial and manufacturing centre.

It is true that many large naval bases, such as Malta and Gibraltar are not near great cities; and it is true that most large naval bases have no facilities for building ships. But it is also true that few large naval bases fulfil all the requirements of a perfect naval base; in fact it is true that none do.

The most obvious requirement of a naval base is a large sheet of sheltered water, in which colliers and oil-carriers may lie and give coal and oil to fighting craft, and in which those fighting craft may lie tranquilly at anchor, and carry on the simple and yet necessary repairs and adjustments to machinery that every cruising vessel needs at intervals. Without the ability to fuel and repair, no fleet could continue long at work, any more than a man could do so, without food and the repairs which nature carries on in sleep. The coming of oil fuel and the consequent ease of fuelling, the practicability even of fuelling in moderate weather when actually at sea, subtract partially one of the reasons for naval bases; but they leave the other reasons still existent, especially the reasons connected with machinery repairs. The principal repair, and the one most difficult to furnish, is that given by docking in suitable docks. The size and expense of docks capable of carrying dreadnaughts and battle cruisers are so great, and their vulnerability to fire from ships and from aircraft is so extreme, that the matter of dry-docks is perhaps the most troublesome single matter connected with a naval base.

The necessity of anchorage areas for submarines is a requirement of naval bases that has only recently been felt; and the present war shows a still newer requirement in suitable grounds for aircraft. The speed of aircraft, however, is so great that little delay or embarrassment would result if the camp for aircraft were not at the base itself. Instead of the camp being on Culebra, for instance, it might well be on Porto Rico. The extreme delicacy of aircraft, however, and the necessity for quick attention in case of injuries, especially injuries to the engine, demand a suitable base even more imperiously than do ships and other rugged things.

That the vessels anchored in the base should be protected from the fire of ships at sea and from guns on neighboring shores is clear. Therefore, even if a base be hidden from the sea and far from it as is the harbor of Santiago, it must be protected by guns, or mines, or both; the guns being nearer to the enemy than are the ships in the waters of the base. An island having high bluffs, where large guns can be installed, and approached by gradually shoaling waters in which mines can be anchored, with deeper water outside in which submarines can operate, is desirable from this point of view.

Ability to store and protect large quantities of provisions is essential, and especially in the case of ammunition and high explosives. For storing the latter, a hilly terrain has advantages, since tunnels can be run horizontally into hills, where explosives can lie safe from attack, even attack from aircraft dropping bombs above them.

Naturally, the country that has led the world in the matter of naval bases is Great Britain; and the world at large has hardly yet risen to a realization of the enduring work that she has been quietly doing for two hundred years, in establishing and fortifying commodious resting-places for her war-ships and merchant ships in all the seas. While other nations have been devoting themselves to arranging and developing the interiors of their countries, Great Britain has searched all the oceans, has explored all the coasts, has established colonies and trading stations everywhere, and formed a network of intimate commercial relations which covers the world and radiates from London. To protect her commercial stations and her merchant ships from unfair dealings in time of peace, and from capture in time of war, and to threaten all rivals with defeat should they resort to war, Great Britain has built up the greatest navy in the world. And as this navy pervades the world, and as her merchant ships dot every sea and display Great Britain's ensign in every port, Great Britain has not failed to provide for their safety and support a series of naval stations that belt the globe.

Bases are of many kinds, and may be divided into many classes. An evident ground for division is that of locality in relation to the home country. Looked at from this point of view, we may divide naval bases into two classes, home bases and distant bases.

Home Bases.—A home base is, as its name implies, a base situated in the home country. The most usual type of the home naval base is the navy-yard, though few navy-yards can meet all the requirements of a naval base. The New York navy-yard, for instance, which is our most important yard, lacks three of the most vital attributes of a naval base, in that it has no means for receiving and protecting a large fleet, it cannot be approached by large ships except at high tide, and it could not receive a seriously injured battleship at any time, because the channel leading to it is too shallow.

Home bases that approach perfection were evidenced after the battle off the Skagerak; for the wounded ships of both sides took refuge after the battle in protected bases, where they were repaired and refitted, and resupplied with fighting men and fuel. These bases seem to have been so located, so protected, and so equipped, as to do exactly what bases are desired to do; they were "bases of operations" in the best sense. The fleets of the opposing sides started from those bases as nearly ready as human means and foresight could devise, returned to them for refreshment after the operations had been concluded, and, during the operations, were based upon those bases. If the bases of either fleet had been improperly located, or inadequately protected or equipped, that fleet would not have been so completely ready for battle as, in fact, it was; and it could not have gone to its base for shelter and repairs so quickly and so surely as, in fact, it did. Many illustrations can be found in history of the necessity for naval bases; but the illustration given by this battle of May 31 is of itself so perfect and convincing, that it seems hardly necessary or even desirable to bring forward any others.

The fact of the nearness to each other of the bases of the two contending fleets—the nearness of Germany and Great Britain in other words—coupled with the nearness of the battle itself to the bases, and the fact that both fleets retired shortly afterward to the bases, bring out in clear relief the efficacy of bases; but nevertheless their efficacy would have been even more strongly shown if the battle had been near to the bases of the more powerful fleet, but far from the bases of the other fleet—as was the case at the battle, near Tsushima, in the Japan Sea.

Of course the weaker fleet in the North Sea battle would not have been drawn into battle under such conditions, because it would not have had a safe refuge to retreat to. It was the proximity of an adequate naval base, that could be approached through protected waters only, which justified the weaker fleet in dashing out and taking advantage of what seemed to be an opportunity. Similarly, if the Russian fleet in the Japan Sea had had a base near by, from which it had issued ready in all ways, and to which it could have retired as soon as the battle began to go against it, the Russian disaster might not have occurred, and full command of the sea by the Japanese might have been prevented. But there being no base or harbor of refuge, disaster succeeded disaster in a cumulative fashion, and the Russian fleet was annihilated in deep water.

If a naval base were lacking to the more powerful fleet, as was the case in the battle of Manila, the effect would in many cases be but slight—as at Manila. If, however, the more powerful fleet were badly injured, the absence of a base would be keenly felt and might entail disaster in the future, even though the more powerful fleet were actually victorious. The Japanese fleet was practically victorious at the battle of August 10, near Port Arthur; but if it had not been able to refit and repair at a naval base, it would have met the Russian fleet later with much less probability of success.

Mahan states that the three main requirements in a naval base are position, resources, and strength; and of these he considers that position is the most important; largely because resources and strength can be artificially supplied, while position is the gift of nature, and cannot be moved or changed.

Mahan's arguments seem to suggest that the bases he had in mind were bases distant from home, not home bases; since reference is continually made by him to the distance and direction of bases from important strategic points of actual or possible enemies.

His arguments do not seem to apply with equal force to home bases, for the reason that home bases are intended primarily as bases from which operations are to start; secondarily as bases to which fleets may return, and only remotely as bases during operations; whereas, distant bases are intended as points from which operations may continually be carried on, during the actual prosecution of a war. The position of a home base, for instance, as referred to any enemy's coasts or bases, is relatively unimportant, compared with its ability to fit out a fleet; while, on the other hand, the position of distant bases, such as Hong-Kong, Malta, or Gibraltar, relatively to the coasts of an enemy, is vital in the extreme. It is the positions of these three bases that make them so valuable to their holders; placed at points of less strategic value, the importance of those bases would be strategically less.

Home bases are valuable mainly by reason of their resources. This does not mean that position is an unimportant factor; it does not mean, for instance, that a naval base would be valuable if situated in the Adirondack Mountains, no matter how great resources it might have. It does mean, however, that the "position" that is important for a home base is the position that the base holds relatively to large home commercial centres and to the open sea. New York, for instance, could be made an excellent naval base, mainly because of the enormous resources that it has and its nearness to the ocean. Philadelphia, likewise, could be made valuable, though Philadelphia's position relatively to deep water is far from good. "Position," as used in this sense, is different from the "position" meant by Mahan, who used the word in its strategic sense. The position of Philadelphia relatively to deep water could be changed by simply deepening the channel of the Delaware; but no human power could change the strategic position of Malta or Gibraltar.

Yet for even home bases, position, resources, and strength must be combined to get a satisfactory result; the "position" not being related to foreign naval bases, however, but to large industrial establishments, mainly in order that working men of various classes may be secured when needed. The requirements of work on naval craft are so discontinuous that steady employment can be provided for comparatively few men only; so that a sort of reservoir is needed, close at hand, which can be drawn up when men are needed, and into which men can be put back, whenever the need for them has ceased. And the same commercial and industrial conditions that assure a supply of skilled workers, assure a supply of provisions and all kinds of material as well.

Distant Bases.—Distant bases have two fields of usefulness which are distinct, though one implies the other; one field being merely that of supplying a fleet and offering a refuge in distress, and the other field being that of contributing thereby to offensive and defensive operations. No matter in which light we regard a distant naval base, it is clear that position, resources, and strength must be the principal factors; but as soon as we concentrate our attention on the operations that may be based upon it, we come to realize how strong a factor position, that is strategic position, is. The base itself is an inert collection of inert materials; these materials can be useful to the operations of a fleet that bases on it; but if the fleet is operating in the Pacific, a base in the Atlantic is not immediately valuable to it, no matter what strength and resources the base may have.

The functions of a home base are therefore those that the name "home" implies; to start the fleet out on its mission, to receive it on its return, and to offer rest, refuge, and succor in times of accident and distress.

The functions of a distant base concern more nearly the operations of a prolonged campaign. A distant base is more difficult to construct as a rule; largely because the fact of its distance renders engineering operations difficult and because the very excellence of its position as an outpost makes it vulnerable to direct attack and often to a concentration of attacks coming from different directions.

If naval operations are to be conducted at considerable distance from home, say in the Caribbean Sea, distant bases are necessary, since without them, the fleet will operate under a serious handicap. Under some conditions, a fleet operating in the Caribbean without a base there, against an enemy that had established a satisfactory base, might have its normal fighting efficiency reduced 50 per cent, or even more. A fleet is not a motionless fort, whose strength lies only in its ability to fire guns and withstand punishment; a fleet is a very live personality, whose ability to fight well—like a pugilist's—depends largely on its ability to move quickly and accurately, and to think quickly and accurately. The best pugilists are not usually the strongest men, though physical strength is an important factor; the best pugilists are men who are quick as well as strong, who see an advantage or a danger quickly, and whose eyes, nerves, and muscles act together swiftly and harmoniously. A modern fleet, filled with high-grade machinery of all kinds, manned by highly trained men to operate it, and commanded by officers fit to be intrusted with such responsibilities, is a highly developed and sensitive organism—and, like all highly developed and sensitive organisms, exists in a state of what may be called "unstable equilibrium." As pointed out in previous pages, the high skill needed to perform well any very difficult task can be gained only by great practice in overcoming difficulties and eliminating errors of many kinds; and when the difficulties are manifold and great, a comparatively small increase or decrease in the overcoming of them makes a great difference in the results attained. An interesting though possibly not very correct analogy is to be seen in the case of a polished surface; for we readily note that the more highly polished the surface is, the more easily it is sullied. Another analogy may be found in the performance of a great pianist or violinist; for a very small failure in his skill for even an instant will produce a painful feeling that could not be produced by a much greater failure in an ordinary performer. Another analogy is to be found in the case of a ship that is going at the upper limit of her speed; for a very minor failure of any part of her machinery will produce a much greater slowing than it would if her speed were slower.

Perhaps apologies are in order for dwelling so long on what may seem to some an academic question, but it does not seem to the writer to be academic at all. Certainly, the "condition" of a pugilist, or a fleet, about to fight, is not an academic consideration; and if it is not, no matter which affects this condition can rightfully be considered academic. The whole usefulness of bases is due to their ability to put fleets into good fighting condition and to maintain them in it; and it seems a very proper and useful thing to note that the more highly trained a fleet is, and the more highly organized the various appliances the fleet contains, the more difference results from a falling off in the condition of its personnel and material.

This shows the advantage of having a base as close to the place where a fight is going to happen as may be possible. This does not mean, of course, that a fleet should remain for long periods within its base; because a fleet, like any other practiser of any art, needs constant practice. It merely means that the closer the base is to the scene of the operations or the actual battle, the better "tuned up" the personnel and material will be. It also means that this consideration is of the highest practical importance.

Advanced Bases.—The extreme desirability of having a base near the scene of operations, even if the base be only temporarily held, has led to the use of what are called "advanced bases." An excellent and modern illustration of an advanced base is the base which the Japanese established at the Elliot Islands about sixty miles from Port Arthur, which the Japanese were besieging. The Russian fleet could issue from their base at Port Arthur whenever the Russians wished, and return to it at will. While inside, until the Japanese had landed and attacked them from the land side, the Russians could make their preparations in security and leisure, and then go out. The Japanese fleet, on the other hand, until they had established their base, were forced to remain under way at sea, and to accept action at the will of the Russians; so that, although Port Arthur was besieged, the advantages of the offensive, to some extent, resided with the Russians. The establishment of the base did not, of course, change the situation wholly; but it permitted a very considerable relaxation of vigilance and mental strain on the part of the Japanese, and a considerable easement of the motive power of their ships. Naturally, the Japanese made arrangements whereby their heavy ships could remain in comparative tranquillity near the base, while destroyers and scouts of various kinds kept touch with Port Arthur, and notified the base by wireless of any probable sortie by the Russian fleet.

The temporary advanced base at the Elliot Islands was, as temporary advanced bases always must be, quite incomplete in every way as compared with the permanent bases at home. It fulfilled its mission, however, and was in fact as good a base as really was required. The strategic ability of the Japanese was indicated quite early in the war by the promptness and skill with which they established this base.

Of course, all advanced bases are distant bases, but the words usually imply temporariness, as does in fact the word "advance." An instance of an advanced base that has been far from temporary is the island of Jamaica, and another is the island of Bermuda; another is Malta, and still another is Gibraltar. These bases form stepping-stones, by which Great Britain's navy may go by easy stages from one position to another, stopping at a base when desired, or going beyond it without stopping, secure in the knowledge that the base is "under her lee" in case of accident or distress.

Viewed from the standpoint of operations in an actual war, the strategic value of a certain position for a base is important, no matter whether the operations are offensive or defensive; and the same factors that make a position good for defensive operations make it good for offensive operations also. For instance, if we wish to send a fleet on a hostile expedition to a distant point, it is well to have a base on a salient as far out as practicable from the coast, in order that the fleet may be able to start, full of fuel and supplies, from a place near the distant point; and equally, if we are to receive an attack upon the coast, it is well to have a base far out, in order to embarrass the transit of the enemy toward our coast, by the threat—first against his flank, and later against his rear and his communications. Naval bases looked at from this point of view resemble those forts that European nations place along their frontiers.

It is true that any base placed at a salient has the weakness of all salients, in that fire can be concentrated on it from several directions; and a naval base has the added disadvantage of a more difficult withdrawal, if attacked by an overwhelming force, and a longer line of communications that has to be protected. But this weakness all distant bases have, from the fact that they are distant; and, naturally, the more distant they are, the more difficult it is to support them, because the longer are their lines of communications.

Distant naval bases, therefore, are vulnerable in a high degree; they are vulnerable both to direct attack and to an attack on their lines of communications; and the factors that help a base in one way injure it in another. If a naval base is placed on a rock, or a rugged little island that holds nothing else, and on which a hostile army could not land, it is very safe from land attack; whereas, if it is placed on a large and fertile island, on which an invading army could easily land, it is extremely vulnerable to land attack. But, on the other hand, the naval base on the inaccessible island could be starved out by simply breaking its lines of communications, while the naval base on the large and fertile island might be able to survive indefinitely, even though the communications were wholly ruptured.

The establishment of any permanent distant naval base is a matter of great expense, even if the natural conditions are favorable. But favorable conditions have rarely existed; and the expense of establishing such bases as Malta, Gibraltar, and Heligoland has been tremendous. An important consideration has been the fact that, unless the base were made so strong that it could not be taken, it might be better not to attempt to fortify it, on the theory that it would be better to let a poor naval base fall into the hands of the enemy than a good one. To this reasoning, the answer is usually made that no base can be made absolutely impregnable, and that sufficient defense will be provided if it makes the task and cost of capturing the base greater than the base is worth. This means simply that the more valuable the base is, the more money should be spent in defending it; and that it is worse than useless to defend it by any means that is obviously too small, in proportion to its value.

It often happens that the places that have the best position are weak in strength and resources; a notable instance is Gibraltar, another is Culebra, and the most notable of all is Guam. None of these places is fortunate in either resources or natural strength, though Gibraltar was strong for the artillery of the time when the base was established there. In fact, it is hard to think of any place that combines in itself the three advantages of a fine strategical position, large resources, and great strength. The three attributes seem almost incompatible; for how can a base far distant from its home be well placed with reference to attacking the lines of communication of any enemy intending to attack the home coast, and yet have its own lines of communications safe? How can it have a sheet of water, just deep enough but not too deep to anchor a large fleet in, with all of its auxiliaries extensive enough to accommodate all the vessels and far enough from the sea to be safe from gun-fire, and yet be on an island so small and so rugged, that an enemy could not land troops near the base and capture it from the land side, as the Japanese captured Port Arthur? The natural strategic advantages of a large and sheltered sheet of water seem to entail the disadvantages of a large island, or a continent.

There seems only one way in which to solve the problem of where and how to establish a permanent naval base at a distant point, and that is the way in which the world's preceptor—Great Britain—has solved it; and the solution is to select a place that has already the advantage of position, and then add to it the artificial advantages of resources and military strength.

This brief statement makes the matter seem a little too simple; and so it will have to be modified by adding that the mere fact of a place having a fine position is not quite sufficient, because the place must be of such a character that it is capable of having resources and strength added to it; a sharp pinnacle rock in the middle of the Mediterranean, for instance, might have a fine strategic position, and yet be unavailable as a naval base. Even here, however, we must pause to note that energy and will could do much toward making even a pinnacle rock a naval base; for we see the gigantic fortress of Heligoland erected on what was little but a shoal; and we see the diminutive water areas of Malta and Gibraltar made to hold in safety the war-ships of the greatest navy in the world.

Despite the paramount importance of strategic position, we must not forget that a naval base should have sufficient military strength to be able to hold out for a long time against hostile operations, as many bases, notably Gibraltar and Port Arthur, have done, without the assistance of the fleet. The German base at Kiao-chau held out for more than two months in 1914, without any external aid. During all the time of siege, even if surrender is ultimately to occur, the enemy's forces are prevented from being utilized elsewhere. This condition was clearly shown during the siege of Port Arthur, because the large force of Japanese troops required to conduct the siege were urgently needed in Manchuria—to which region they were sent as soon as Port Arthur fell.

From this point of view, naval bases again look much like fortresses on the land; fortresses like Metz and Strasburg, that had to be subdued before an enemy could safely pass them.

Strategic Position of Distant Bases.—Since the strategic position of an outlying naval base is the principal factor that goes to make its value, it may be well to consider what elements make a strategic position good.

To make the problem clear, let us take a concrete case, that of our own country, and consider what elements would constitute a good strategic position for a naval base of the United States, leaving out of consideration for the moment any questions of resources and military strength.

In the case of a war with a nation that had only one naval home base, it is clear that the best position for our distant base would be one as close to the enemy's base as possible; because, if placed there, our fleet, if it were the more powerful, could do more to injure the enemy's fleet, or prevent its going out, than if placed at any point more distant from the enemy's base; and if it were less powerful, it could do more to cut the enemy's communications, because it could attack them at or near their source.

A poor position would be one far away from both countries, and far away from the line joining them. In the case of a war between this country and Norway, for instance, a very poor position for a naval base would be a spot near—say Juan Fernandez—in the south Pacific.

In case the enemy country has two home bases of equal importance, the best position for our base clearly would be one equidistant from them, and as near to each as practicable. If the distance from our base to a point half-way between the two bases is shorter than is the distance to it from either base, then a fleet at our base could probably prevent the junction of two forces issuing from those two bases—assuming, of course, that we had a proper system of scouting. Our fleet would be able to operate on what are often called "interior lines"—a technical expression that has great efficacy in confusing a simple matter. It is also assumed that our fleet is considerably stronger than either of the two separated enemy forces; otherwise our case would be hopeless.

If the two home bases of the enemy are unequal in importance, it would seem that our base should be nearer to the important base than to the other. More strictly speaking, it should be nearer to the base from which the larger force may be expected to come out.

If the enemy country have three or more bases, from which parts of a fleet may be expected to come out, the question seems a little more complex; but nevertheless, since the first duty of our fleet would probably be to prevent junctions or a junction, of the separated parts of the enemy's fleet, the best position for our home base would be at a point about equally distant from them all, and as close to them as possible. In the wars between Great Britain and France in the early part of the nineteenth century, the base of the British fleet for operations on the western and northern coasts of France was as close to the enemy home bases as practicable—though the base was England itself. For operations on France's southern coast, the base was at Gibraltar, or some Mediterranean island.

That any country should be able to hold a distant base close to the home base of a possible naval enemy might seem impossible, if we did not know that Great Britain holds Bermuda and Jamaica near to our own coast, and Hong-Kong actually inside of China, all far away from Britain; besides Malta and Gibraltar in the Mediterranean, nearer to the coasts of sometime enemies than to her own. That the United States should own a base far from her own coasts, and near those of other countries, might seem improbable, were it not for the fact that Guam is such a base, and is so situated. It is true that Guam is not strictly a naval base, because it is not so equipped or fortified; but we are thinking now of position only.

In case the enemy country has several home bases, and it is impossible to have our distant base so near to them as to prevent the junction of parts of a fleet issuing from them, the value of the base is less than it otherwise would be.

In this case, which is the one in which our country is actually concerned, because of its great distance from other countries, its value becomes merely the usual value attaching to a naval base; and the fact that the entire enemy fleet can operate as a unit, that it can divide into separate forces at will near its own shores, or send out detachments to prey on the long line of communications stretching from our distant base to that base's home, necessitates that the base be fortified in the strongest possible way, and provided with large amounts of supplies. Its principal function in war would be to shorten the long trip that our vessels would have to make without refreshment, and therefore the length of their lines of communications, and to enable our vessels to arrive in enemy's waters in better condition of readiness for battle than would otherwise be the case.

We have thus far considered the best position for an advanced naval base, in the case of operations against one country only.

It seems clear that, if we are to consider operations against two countries separately, and at different times, we should be led to conclude that the case of each country should be decided individually; in the case of wars with Norway and Portugal, for instance, the best places for our two bases would be as close to the home bases of those countries as possible; and even in the case of fighting two simultaneously, the conclusion would be the same, if the two countries were in widely different directions from us—as are Switzerland and China. If we consider the case of war against two contiguous countries simultaneously, however, it would seem better to have one base, situated similarly toward the home bases of the two countries as toward two different home bases in one country—since the two countries would be, in effect, allies; and their fleets would act in reality like separated portions of one fleet.

As the United States possesses no island on the Atlantic side which is nearer to foreign countries than to our own, and as our interests for the immediate future lie mostly on the Atlantic side, it may be well now to apply the general principles just considered to the question of where is a naval base most urgently needed under actual conditions.

Imagining a war between us and some one European naval Power, and imagining a war also between us and two or three allied European naval Powers, and realizing the length of our Atlantic and Gulf coasts, extending from Maine to Panama, a glance at the map shows us that, apart from the home naval bases on our continental coasts, the position on American soil which is the closest to European bases is on the little island of Culebra, which occupies a salient in the northeastern end of the Caribbean Sea.[*]

[Footnote *: The acquisition by the United States of the island of Saint Thomas, about 20 miles east of Culebra, if accomplished, will extend the salient just so much farther toward Europe.]

The only reason an enemy would have for entering the Caribbean would be an intention to attack the Panama Canal region, or an intention to establish an advanced base, from which he could conduct more or less deliberate siege of our Atlantic coast and cities. In either case, our fleet would be seriously handicapped if it had no adequate base in the Caribbean; because its line of communications north would be exposed to the enemy's operations at all times; and seriously wounded American ships would have little chance of getting repairs; little chance even of making successfully the long trip to Norfolk or New York.

In case the enemy fleet should start from Europe fully prepared in every way, we should be in ignorance of its intended destination; and as the enemy fleet would be stronger than ours (otherwise it would not start) it would doubtless be able to destroy our undefended station at Guantanamo, seize some suitable place in the West Indies, say the Bay of Samana, and then establish a base there, unless we had first seized and fortified all suitable localities; and the United States would then find itself in the anomalous position of being confronted near its own coasts with an enemy fleet well based for war, while her own fleet would not be based at all. Not only would the enemy fleet be superior in power, but it would possess the strategical advantage, though far from its own shores. The situation, therefore, about a month after the foreign fleet left Europe, would be that the Caribbean Sea would contain a hostile fleet which was not only superior to ours in power, but was securely resting on a base; while ours had no base south of Norfolk, the other side of Hatteras. Our fleet would be in a position similar to that of the Russian fleet when it rushed to its destruction in Tsushirna Straits, though not in so great a degree; because it would have had more recent docking and refitting in our home ports, and the personnel would be fresher.

In case, however, we had a naval base strongly fortified and thoroughly equipped, at a salient in the Caribbean region, say at Culebra, and if our fleet were based upon it, a hostile fleet, even if it were considerably superior to our own, would hesitate to pass it and enter the Caribbean, by reason of the continuous threat that the fleet would exert on its communications. Even if the hostile fleet should pass Culebra, and establish a base farther on, an American force based on Culebra would continue to exert this threat on the communications between the hostile base and its mother country.

An American base—say at Guantanamo—would be very effective in embarrassing hostile operations west of Guantanamo, because it would be on the flank of the line of communications extending from Europe; but it would be comparatively ineffective in embarrassing operations east of it, since the hostile line of communications would be protected from it by the interposition of its own main body; this interposition necessitating the despatch of defending forces around that main body. The coming hostile force would push before it all resistance, and leave the sea free for the passage of its auxiliaries and supplies. A defending force, operating from Guantanamo, in endeavoring to prevent a hostile fleet from establishing a base to the eastward of it, would act much less effectively than a force operating from Culebra. Not only would the force from Guantanamo have to pass around the main body to attack the train; it would again have to pass around the main body to get back to Guantanamo; whereas a force operating from Culebra could make a direct attack upon the enemy's train, and then a direct retreat to Culebra.

This comparison assumes, as has been said, that the matter of resources and strength are not in question; that is, that they are equal in our two supposition bases. But, as in practice they would not be equal, the practical point to consider is how much strength and resources can compensate for inferiority of position, and how much position must be insisted on.

Of course, no correct quantitative answer can be given, except by accident. The problem, unfortunately, cannot be solved by mathematics, for the simple reason that no quantitative values can be assigned to the various factors, and because no mathematical formula now exists that expresses their relations to each other. It may be pointed out, however, that if a position be good, strength and resources can be artificially supplied; and that the cost of doing this, even on a tremendous scale, is relatively small compared to the cost of the fleet which the base will support, and in distress protect. In other words, we may be able to form an estimate of the relative values of bases, say at Guantanamo and Culebra, even if we cannot ascribe arithmetical values to each, and compare arithmetically those arithmetical values. If, for instance, we see that a fleet costing $500,000,000, would, if it operated from a base at Culebra, be 10 per cent more effective than if it operated from Guantanamo, and that it would cost $20,000,000 more to make a strong base there than to make an equally strong one at Guantanamo, we should conclude that, since 10 per cent of $500,000,000 is $50,000,000, it would be wise to spend that $20,000,000, even if we had to forego the building of one battlesbip.

We should come to the same conclusion, if we realized that no matter what their comparative values might be, a base at one place would not meet our necessities, and a base at the other place would. If a base at Guantanamo would not meet our necessities in case of an invasion of the Caribbean by a naval fleet superior to ours, then it seems idle to discuss the value of Guantanamo relative to some other place, no matter how good the position of Guantanamo may be, and no matter how nearly it may approximate to adequacy. There is no real usefulness in having a naval base anywhere, unless that naval base can accomplish the purpose for which it is desired. A naval base is desired for purposes of war, and for no other purpose whatever; and to decide on a position for a base without keeping this fact clearly in view, is to act on an underestimate of the situation, the folly of which has been pointed out in previous pages.

We may conclude, then, that in deciding on the place for a distant permanent naval base, on which the operations of a whole fleet are to base for war, we should select the best site available, even if military strength and resources may have to be added to it artificially—unless in the case of any site considered the difficulties of adding them are insuperable.

The last sentence may seem like shirking the whole question, because it does not state what "insuperable" means; so it may be well to add that in modern days few engineering difficulties are insuperable, as the existence of the fortress at Heligoland shows. If the submarine and the mine did not exist, the difficulties would be greater than they actually are; because guns alone, no matter how carefully mounted and protected, could hardly be expected to keep off indefinitely the attack of a heavy fleet, or even to save from injury the fighting and auxiliary vessels anchored in its waters. But the submarine and mine combine to keep fighting ships at distances greater than those over which ship's guns can fire, and reduce the amount of fortification required on shore.

One of the principal sources of expense in establishing bases at some points would be that of dredging out harbors sufficiently extensive, while harbors sufficiently extensive are provided already by nature in such localities as Samana. But, as pointed out before, harbors on large islands can be taken from the land side, as was Port Arthur; and adequate protection from land attack is, in many cases, almost impossible if the enemy has command of the sea, as a superior hostile fleet would have in the Caribbean; while the hills and waters of Culebra and Vieques Sound could long defy not only actual invasion, but any fleet attack.

This brings us face to face with the fact that it may be less expensive to establish and protect a naval base situated on a little island, even if an artificial harbor has to be constructed, than to establish and protect a base on a large island, even if the base on the large island has a large natural harbor and can be more easily defended against bombardment from the sea. It would be cheaper, for instance, to protect a base on Culebra than one at Guantanamo, or even Samana, if the enemy commanded the sea; and cheaper to protect a base on the forbidding rocks of Polillo or Guam than on the large and fertile island of Luzon, with its extensive gulfs and bays, in many of which a fleet in command of the sea could land its force; because protecting a base on a large island would require covering a very large area, and perhaps a long extent of coast.

Aircraft may exercise an important influence on the choice of the position of a base, perhaps in the direction of choosing a base on a large island rather than on a small one; since the great speed of aircraft tends to lessen the importance of having the base out a great distance from home—so far as purposes of scouting are concerned. It seems probable also that aircraft will soon be recognized as inherently adapted to preventing the landing of hostile troops, by dropping bombs on the troops, while they are in process of disembarkation, while proceeding in small boats to the shore, and while in the act of landing on the beach, with their guns, ammunition, supplies, horses, and impedimenta of various kinds.

Co-operating Bases.—Discussion of the relative values of positions for bases, say in the Caribbean, should not blind our eyes to the fact, however, that no nation is prevented from establishing as many bases as it needs, wherever its flag may float; that the United States, for instance, is not debarred from establishing permanent naval bases at both Guantanamo and Culebra, should such a procedure seem desirable. The fact that each locality has advantages that the other does not have, suggests the idea that two bases, placed in those localities, would form a powerful combination. In fact, the great value of the position of Culebra being its distance toward the enemy, which necessitates a great distance away from our continental coast, and a long line of communications from that coast suggest an intermediate base as a support and stepping-stone. Analogous cases are seen in all the countries of Europe, in the fortresses that are behind their boundary-lines—the fortresses existing less as individuals than as supporting members of a comprehensive scheme.

Two bases, one at Guantanamo and one at Culebra, would in time of war in the Caribbean, add a value to our fleet that might make the difference between defeat and victory. The effective work that a fleet can do is a function of the material condition of the ships themselves, and of the physical and mental condition of the personnel that man them. Fighting is the most strenuous work that men can do; it calls for the last ounce of strength, the last effort of the intellect, the last struggle of the will; it searches out every physical imperfection in men, in ships, in engines, in joints, in valves. Surprise has sometimes been expressed at the quickness with which the Japanese defeated the Russians at Tsushima; but would any one express surprise if a pugilist, fresh from rest, quickly defeated another pugilist who, exhausted from long travelling, staggered hopelessly into the ring? And how would the betting be before a football match, if it were known that one of the teams would enjoy a rest of twenty-four hours before the game, whereas the other team would walk from the railroad to the ball grounds after a trip across the continent?

These analogies may seem forced—but are they? A living animal requires hours of rest and refreshment, in order that the tissues expended in action may be repaired by the internal mechanism of the body, and the food consumed be supplied from some external source. A fleet is in exactly the same category, even when operating in times of peace: and in time of war it needs, in addition, a station in which injuries may be repaired—a station analogous to that of the hospital for wounded men.

In the Caribbean it would seem necessary to successful operations, therefore, to have two bases, one say at Guantanamo and one at Culebra; the one at Culebra to be the principal base, and the one at Guantanamo the auxiliary. Culebra, by reason of the great work to be accomplished, and the engineering difficulties to be encountered, cannot be gotten ready for several years. Reliance, meanwhile, will have to be placed on Guantanamo; and as the coming of any war is not usually very long foretold, the urgency of fortifying Guantanamo stands out in clear relief.

The mutual relations of Guantanamo and Culebra are much like the mutual relations of Pearl Harbor in Hawaii and Guam—and so are the joint relations of each pair to the mother country. Culebra and Guam are the potential bases of the United States farthest away from the coast in the Atlantic and the Pacific respectively; and the nearest to countries in Europe and Asia with any one of which, of course, war will be always possible, and sometimes probable. Each is a small and rugged island, admitting of tremendous military strengthening by guns, fortifications, mines, and submarines, but connected to the motherland by a long line of communications. The line of communications of Culebra would, of course, be safer than that of Guam, because it is shorter than would be the line of an enemy attacking it; whereas, the line of communications of Guam would be longer. Guantanamo and Pearl Harbor are both stations about half-way from the home country to Culebra and Guam respectively; and though greater danger to our vital and commercial interests exists in the Atlantic than in the Pacific, Pearl Harbor has been fortified, and Guantanamo has not—and neither has Culebra. This sentence is not intended as a criticism of the government for fortifying Pearl Harbor. The Hawaiian Islands occupy the most valuable strategic position in the Pacific, and Pearl Harbor is the most important strategic place in the Hawaiian Islands; and it ought to have been strengthened many years ago, and to a greater degree even than is contemplated now. But the sentence is intended as a protest against our continued inertness in failing to establish any suitable naval bases whatever, especially in the Caribbean.

Distant Base in the Philippines.—The difficulty of finding suitable positions for bases is exemplified in the Philippines, for no suitable island is to be found there, except some that are within the archipelago itself; and these are so placed that, to reach them, our fleet would have to go through long reaches of water, ideally suited for destroyer and submarine attack. A possible exception is the island of Polillo, twenty miles east of the eastern coast of Luzon; and in many ways Polillo seems ideal. The practical difficulties are so great, however, the status of the islands in our national policy is so ill defined, and the futility of strengthening it, unless Guam be adequately strengthened also, is so apparent, that the question has been hardly even mooted. Polillo made impregnable, with Guam defenseless, supported by an undefended line of communications several thousand miles long to the main country, would in case of war with an active Asiatic power be reduced to the zero of effectiveness in whatever was the length of time in which its accumulated stores would be exhausted.

This sentence may be modified by saying that the time might be lengthened by the occasional arrival of supply ships and colliers that might come by way of the Mediterranean, or the Cape of Good Hope, or any other route which approached the Philippines from the southward; and it is possible that, in the unfortunate event of a war between us and some Asiatic power, our relations with European countries might be such as to make the use by us of such routes feasible and safe. In view, however, of the conditions of island possession in the Pacific as they actually are, and because of the rapid and abrupt changes that characterize international relations, the probability of being able to use such routes seems too small to receive grave consideration.

Other Bases in the Pacific.—The Pacific Ocean is so vast, and the interests of the United States there will some day be so great, that the question of establishing naval bases, in addition to bases at Pearl Harbor, the Philippines, and Guam, will soon demand attention. The localities that are the most obvious are the Panama Canal Zone and the Samoan Islands in the south, and the Aleutian Islands in the north. A moderately far-seeing policy regarding the Pacific, and a moderately far-seeing strategy for carrying out the policy, would dictate the establishment and adequate protection of bases in both the southern and the northern regions; so that our fleet could operate without undue handicap over the long distances required. The same principles that govern the selection of positions and the establishment of bases in the Atlantic apply in the Pacific; the same requirements that a base shall be near where the fleet will conduct its operations—no matter whether those operations be offensive or defensive, no matter whether they concern direct attack or a threat against communications.

* * * * *

In view of the great value of naval bases, one may be pardoned perhaps for a feeling of surprise that the United States has no real naval base, home or distant. Our large navy-yards are our nearest approximation to real bases. The yards at Norfolk and Bremerton seem to combine the three factors of position, strength, and resources better than do any other stations; though both are surpassed in resources by New York, Philadelphia, and Boston. Bremerton has the greatest natural military strength of all our stations; in fact, it is naturally very strong indeed, because of the length and nature of the waterway leading to it from the sea and the ease with which it could be denied. Norfolk is fortunate in its nearness to Chesapeake Bay and Lynn Haven Roads, and the ease with which the entrance to the Chesapeake from seaward could be defended; but the fact that it is only 18 miles from the Atlantic coast-line makes it more vulnerable than Bremerton to the attack of troops landed by an enemy fleet. The yard at Mare Island, near San Francisco, is faultily placed as regards deep water; but dredging could rectify this. The Panama Canal Zone has great facilities for repairs, docking, and supplies; but it must be adequately fortified in order to be a trustworthy base in the case of operations in its vicinity.

New York, by reason of its enormous wealth of every kind, its steamer terminals, and its excessively vulnerable position, within gunshot of ships out in the deep water (a position without parallel in the large cities of the world) must, of course, be protected. The cheapest way to protect it is to do so locally, by means of fortifications, and other shore defenses. The only other means would be by a fleet permanently kept near New York, a measure that would be expensive beyond reason.

In case the enemy should inform us that he would reach the vicinity of New York at a certain time, and in case he should fulfil his promise, the fact that New York was properly strengthened would not be very important; since our fleet would go there, and the whole war would be settled by one "stand-up fight." But wars are not so conducted and never have been. From the oldest times till now, and even among savage tribes, finesse has always been employed, in addition to actual force—more perhaps by the weaker than by the stronger side, but very considerably also by the stronger. A coming enemy would endeavor to keep his objective a close secret, and even to mislead us; so that our fleet would have to take a position out at sea, perhaps far away, which would leave our bases open to attack by the enemy fleet or at least exposed to raids.

The most effective local defense of a naval base is a combination of mine-fields and heavy guns, which also give protection to which the wounded vessels can retire, as the German vessels did after the North Sea battle. Unless such protection be provided, swift destroyers can complete the work that guns began, as the Japanese destroyers did, after the artillery battle at Tsushima.

In addition to their value in defending navy-yards from raids, and in giving wounded ships a refuge, the military strengthening of home bases, if such home bases are wisely placed near large commercial centres, prevents actual destruction of those commercial centres themselves, in case an attack is made upon them, either in the absence of the defending fleet, or after that fleet may have been destroyed. The line of engineering advance during recent years, although it has greatly increased the offensive power of war-ships, has increased even more greatly the defensive power of land works. For this reason, it is perfectly possible to defend successfully almost any land position against attack by ships; and it is so easy, that not to do so, is, in the case of large commercial centres, a neglectfulness of the extremest character.

One important reason, therefore, for placing a permanent home base near a large commercial centre is the fact that the fortification of one is also the fortification of the other.

Assuming that New York is to be defended locally, we can state at once that the New York naval station can easily be made to be a permanent naval base of the highest order, and of the most efficient type. In fact, it can be made into a naval base better than any other now in the world, because of the large sheets of water tributary to it in New York Bay, Hudson River, and Long Island Sound; the proximity of the sea; the untold resources in money, supplies, and men that it could on demand produce, and the ease with which it could be defended. To make such a base, it would be necessary to fortify the vicinity of Coney Island and the entrances from the ocean to the Lower Bay, and Long Island Sound; to deepen the channel to the navy-yard, and to make clear and safe the waterway from the East River to Long Island Sound. It would be necessary also to enlarge the navy-yard; and to this end, to buy back the land adjoining it, which the government most unwisely sold to private parties about twenty-five years ago.

Owing to the position of Block Island, relatively to the lines of communication of a hostile force coming from Europe to attack our eastern coast, and because of the sheltered waters held within it, suitable for small craft, the advisability of establishing a small naval base there is apparent. With a suitable base there and another on Martha's Vineyard, and the present canal from Massachusetts Bay to Buzzards Bay sufficiently enlarged, the whole coast from Boston to New York, including Narragansett Bay, could be made to form one naval base which would have three exits. Our own ships could pass from one point to another, and concentrate at will near Sandy Hook, Block Island, or Massachusetts Bay; and, which is equally important, the establishment of an enemy base near New York would be made almost, if not quite, impossible.

In case of an attack on our eastern coast, made directly from Europe, which could be accomplished easily during the calm months of the summer, the degree of efficiency shown by the bases at Norfolk, Philadelphia, New York, and Boston would influence vitally the condition in which our fleet would go to battle. Owing to the traditional policy, or rather lack of policy, of the United States, and the consequent unreadiness of our preparations, we may reasonably assume that war will find us in such a condition that the utmost haste will be necessary to get our whole naval force out to sea in time to prevent the enemy from making an actual bombardment of our shores. We have no reason to suppose that the ships actually cruising in our active fleet will not be ready; we have every reason to believe that they will be ready. But it is inconceivable that we should not try to oppose such an attack with all the naval force that we could muster; which means that we should try to send out many ships from our home bases to join the active fleet at sea.

The ease with which the passage of an enemy's fleet up the Delaware or Chesapeake could be prevented, in case any means of national defense whatever be attempted, compared with the difficulty of defending New York, and combined with the greater damage that an enemy could inflict on New York, mark the vicinity of New York as the probable objective of any determined naval attack upon our coast; no matter whether that attack be made directly from Europe, or indirectly from Europe by way of the Caribbean. To meet such an attack, various parts of the fleet would have to issue from their bases; even parts of the active fleet would probably have had to go to their home ports for some needed repairs or supplies. The first thought of an attacking fleet would naturally be to prevent our ships from getting out, as it was the thought of Nelson and other British commanders to prevent the issuing of forces from the ports of France. But in view of the great distance from Europe to our coast, and the impossibility of preventing the knowledge reaching us of the departure of the fleet (unless indeed all the powers of Europe combined to prevent it), it seems probable that no such issuing could be prevented, and that a very considerable American force would have time to take its station out at sea, prepared to meet the coming foe.

The home bases if properly prepared would exert a powerful effect on a battle near them by equipping the fleet adequately and promptly, and also by preventing a possible defeat from becoming a disaster, by receiving wounded ships before they sank. The wounded ships of the enemy, on the other hand, would have no base near by, and only those inconsiderably injured could probably be gotten home.



CHAPTER XII

OPERATING THE MACHINE

The naval machine, including the various vessels of all kinds, the bases and the personnel, having been designed, put together, and prepared for its appointed task of conducting war, and the appointed task having at last been laid upon it, how shall the machine be operated—how shall it be made successfully to perform its task?

In order to answer this correctly, we must first see clearly what is its task.

War.—War may be said to be the act of two nations or two sets of nations, by means of which each tries to get its way by physical force. The peaceful methods of diplomacy having been exhausted, arguments and threats having been tried in vain, both parties resort to the oldest and yet the latest court; the same court as that to which resort the lions of the desert, the big and little fishes of the sea, the fowls of the air, and even the blades of grass that battle for the sunshine.

The vastness of the issue decided by war, the fact that from its decision there is no appeal, the greatness of the forces that nations can produce, the length of experience of war extending through 8,000 wars, and during more than three thousand years of recorded history, the enormous literature of the subject, and the fact that more brain power, energy, and character have been devoted to war than to any other fruit of man's endeavor—combine to give to the conduct of war an importance that no other subject can possess.

The thing that each side brings forward against the other side is force; "that which moves or tends to move matter." In all ages, it has been directed primarily against the physical bodies of individual men, threatening each individual man with suffering and death. It appeals to the primal instinct of men, self-preservation, and is the ultima ratio regum, the last argument of kings—and not only of kings, but of all other living things as well.

The first feeling aroused by the threat against life, or physical well-being, is fear; and, therefore, the first force with which to oppose the threat is a force of the same spiritual nature as fear, but opposite in direction. This force is called in the English language "courage." Without courage every man and every nation would be at the mercy of every man or nation that made a threat against it. The inherent necessity for courage is thus apparent; and the reason is therefore apparent, for the fact that in every nation and tribe physical courage has been esteemed the greatest virtue in a man. In Latin, we know, the word virtus meant courage, and also virtue—showing that the Romans held the two qualities to be identical or similar.

In discussing the operations of war, little is usually said of courage. The reason, however, is not that its value is unrecognized, but that its existence is assumed; in the same way as that in which all the other faculties among the men are assumed, such as physical health, ability to march, etc. Movements to inspire fear, however, actions to break down the morale, are of frequent use; because, if the morale of the opposing side is broken down, its power of resistance is destroyed.

In the operations, therefore, of two contending parties, force is opposed by force. If the forces on both sides could be concentrated at a single point, and exerted in opposite directions, the result would be decided in an instant. Such an arrangement has never yet been brought about; though fairly close approximations have been made, when two parties have selected two champions who have fought for them—the victory going by agreement to the side whose champion became the victor.

Barring such rare occasions, contests in war have usually been between two forces spread over considerable areas of land or water; and the contest has usually been decided by the defeat of one of the two. If in any individual combat, all the forces possessed by both sides had been engaged, and if either force had been annihilated, the entire war between the two parties would have been decided. This was nearly the case in the naval battle off Tsushima between the Russian and Japanese fleets—and the treaty of peace was signed soon after. Usually, however, neither party to the quarrel has had all its forces on the field in any one battle, and neither force in the battle has been annihilated. Usually, only partial forces have been engaged, and only partial victories have been won; with the result that wars between contending nations have usually consisted of a series of battles, with intervals of rest between.

If two opposing forces in any battle were exactly equal in fighting power, neither side in any battle would gain a victory, the two sides would inflict identical amounts of damage on each other, and the two sides would end the battle still equal in force. At rare intervals, such conditions have been approximated; but usually one side has had more fighting power than the other, and has inflicted more damage of various kinds than it has received, with the result that it attained an advantage more or less important over the other, and with the further result that the original disproportion between the two forces was increased. The increase may not necessarily have been due to a greater number of killed and wounded or even to a greater loss of material, such as guns or ships; there may have been no increase in inequality in either of these ways, for the increase in inequality may have consisted in the fact that the weaker force was driven to a position less advantageous to it for conducting operations in the future. But whatever the nature of the advantage gained by the stronger side, the result has been that the weaker side has come out of the battle relatively weaker than it was before.

For this reason, it is highly desirable to each side to win each battle. This does not mean that the loss of any one battle by either party to a war means that the party losing that battle will necessarily lose the war; for many battles may be fought by such small portions of the whole nations' forces, or be lost by such small margins that the loss of one battle, or even several battles, may be retrieved; in fact, in few wars have the victories been all on one side. It does mean, however, that each lost battle is a backward step; and that for this reason the effort must be that no battle shall be lost.

Strategy and Tactics.—Now, to win battles, two things combine, strategy and tactics. The strategy of each side tries to arrange matters so that the forces on its side shall enter each battle with the greatest chance of victory; tactics tries to handle the forces with which it enters a battle in such a way that its side shall gain the victory. Strategy prepares for battles; tactics fights them.

The tactics of any battle must be in the hands of the commanders-in-chief on both sides. Any other arrangement is inconceivable; but the strategy controlling the series of battles in any war cannot now be committed to them solely; though it was usually committed to them until lately. In the days when Alexander went to war, or even when Napoleon and Nelson went to war, twenty-one centuries later, no telegraph by sea and land made swift communication possible; and the commanders on the spot were the only ones in possession of enough information about the contending forces to decide what measures should be taken. Even in those days, however, the capitals of the countries engaged in war, by reason of their knowledge of what was passing in the way of policy, exerted an influence on the strategy of the forces on both sea and land; Caesar, for instance, was embarrassed in many of his operations by the Roman Senate, and it was for this reason that he crossed the Rubicon and passed from Gaul into Italy. When William I and Napoleon III went to war in 1870, however, Von Moltke had foreseen the effects of the telegraph and of rapid-mail communications, in giving to the headquarters of the army information of a much greater scope and reliability than had previously been the case, and had established a General Staff which had elaborated plans whereby not only would the commanders-in-chief in the field have the assistance of information compiled at headquarters, but whereby the general nature of the operations of a war, especially those operations at the outset on which the future conduct of the war would largely depend, would be decided and laid down in advance and during times of peace. The reason for the rapid victory of the Prussians over the French in 1870 was that the Prussians were better prepared in almost every way; especially in the most important thing—the war plans.

Now, these war plans could not, of course, be of such a kind that they would foresee every contingency and prescribe the conduct to be followed, so that a commander in the field could turn to page 221 of volume 755, and get directions as to what he ought to do; nor could they furnish the chief of staff, Von Moltke, with printed recommendations which he should offer to the King. In other words, the war plans could be only plans and, like all plans for future action, could be only tentative, and capable of being modified by events as they should come to pass. They were only plans of preparation, not plans of operation.

Yet there were plans of preparation for operations; plans prepared in accordance with the principles of strategy, and based on information as to the enemy's resources, skill, point of view, and probable intentions. They formed the general guide for future operations.

Since 1870, the invention and practical development of the wireless telegraph, and especially its development for use over very great distances, has modified the relations of commanders on the spot to home headquarters, and especially of naval commanders to their navy departments. The wireless telegraph, under circumstances in which it operates successfully, annihilates distance so far as communication is concerned, though it does not annihilate distance so far as transportation is concerned. It improves the sending and receiving of news and instructions, both for the commander at sea and for his department at home; but it does it more effectively for the department than for the man at sea, because of the superior facilities for large and numerous apparatus that shore stations have, and their greater freedom from interruptions of all kinds.

This condition tends to place the strategical handling of all the naval machine, including the active fleet itself, more in the hands of the department or admiralty, and less in the hands of the commander-in-chief: and this tendency is confirmed by the superior means for discussion and reflection, and for trial by war games, that exist in admiralties, compared with those that exist in ships.

The general result is to limit the commander-in-chief more and more in strategical matters: to confine his work more and more to tactics.

Such a condition seems reasonable in many ways. The government decides on a policy, and tells the Navy Department to carry it out, employing the executive offices and bureaus to that end, under the guidance of strategy. Strategy devotes itself during peace to designing and preparing the naval machine, and in war to operating it, utilizing both in war and peace the bureaus and offices and the fleet itself. And in the same way as that in which the bureaus and offices perform the calculations and executive functions of logistics, for furnishing the necessary material of all kinds, the fleet performs those of tactics. From this point of view, strategy plans and guides all the acts of navies, delegating one part of the practical work needed to carry out those plans to logistics, and the other part to tactics.

Operating the naval machine in war means practically operating the active fleet in such a way as to cause victories to occur, to cause the fleet to enter each battle under as favorable conditions as practicable, and to operate the other activities of the navy in such a way that the fleet will be efficiently and promptly supplied with all its needs. Strategy employs tactics and logistics to bring these things to pass; but this does not mean that strategy stands apart and simply gives logistics and tactics tasks to do. The three agencies are too mutually dependent for any such procedure and require for their successful working, both individually and together, the most thorough mutual understanding and support.

Flanking, T-ing, etc.—It being a fact that no nation can put a force upon the sea that is concentrated at one point; it being a fact that every naval force must be spread over a considerable area and made up of various parts, and that the efficacy of the various parts in exerting force upon a definite enemy depends on the unity of action of the various parts, it results that the most effective way in which to attack any naval force is not to attack all the parts at once, thus enabling all to reply, but to attack the force in such a way that all the parts cannot reply. If we attack a ship for instance, that can fire 10 guns on a broadside and only 4 guns ahead, it is clear that we can do better by attacking from ahead than from either side. Similarly, if 10 ships are in a column, steaming one behind the other, each ship being able to fire 10 guns from either side and only 4 ahead, the 10 ships can fire 100 guns on either side and only 4 ahead; and therefore it would be better to attack the column from ahead (to "T" it), than to attack it from either side.

It is curious to note how widely this simple illustration can be made to apply to both strategy and tactics; how the effort of each is to dispose our force so toward the enemy's force that we can use our weapons more effectively than he can use his. An extreme illustration might be made by imagining 1,000 soldiers standing in line and unable to face except to the front; in which case it is clear that, no matter how perfectly they might be armed, or how quickly and accurately they could fire, one man standing on the flank, or behind them, could kill one soldier after the other, until all the 1,000 were killed, and be in no danger himself.

In case of attacking a ship or a column of ships from ahead, or of attacking a line of soldiers on the flank, the effectiveness of the method of attack lies in the fact that a number of the weapons that are present in the force attacked cannot be used in reply.



Concentration and Isolation.—The value of "concentration" is often insisted on, but the author desires to call attention to a misunderstanding on this point, to which he called attention in an essay in 1905. To the author, it seems that concentration is a means and not an end, and that the end is what he called "isolation" in the essay. If a man concentrates his mind on any subject, the advantage he gains is that he prevents other subjects from obstructing the application of his mental powers to that subject; he pushes to one side and isolates all other subjects. In this particular activity it does not matter whether we call his act "concentration" or "isolation" because the whole operation goes on inside of his own skull, and concentration on one subject automatically produces isolation or elimination of all others. But when concentration is attempted on external objects, the case is very different, for concentration may not produce isolation at all. For instance, if 4 ships in column A concentrate their fire on the leading ship in column B, the other 3 ships in column B are not isolated, and can fire on the ships of column A, even more effectively than if column A was not concentrated on the leading ship of B, because they are undisturbed by being fired at. If, however, the 4 ships of A "flank" or "T" the ships of column B, as shown in Fig. 2, and concentrate on the leader of B, they thereby isolate the other ships, and practically nullify their ability to fire at A.



This effect is approximated by an approximate "T-ing" or "flanking," such as is shown in Fig. 3; because the average distance from the ships of A to the leading ship in B is less than the average distance from the ships in B to any ship in A; and because the direction of fire from each ship in A is more nearly abeam than is the direction of fire from the ships of B. These positions are very difficult to gain, even if A's speed is considerably greater than B's; since all B has to do to prevent it is to head to the right, unless shoals or other dangers such as enemy battleships, C, are on that side, co-operating with A.



An interesting position is that shown in Fig. 4, which may be assumed by A, either for flight, or to get the advantage in torpedo fire. The advantage is that the A ships are running away from torpedoes fired by B, while B is running into torpedoes fired by A. This advantage is not great if the distance between A and B is so little that B's torpedoes can reach A. But if A is able to make this distance equal to the entire range over which B's torpedoes can run, or near it, B's torpedoes cannot reach A at all.



A similar advantage, though in a modified degree, is that shown as possessed by A in Fig. 5. Due to the direction of movement of the A and B fleets, it is easier for A's torpedoes to reach B, than for B's torpedoes to reach A.



Positions of advantage are usually gained by superior speed. One of the main reasons for the development of the battle cruiser has been the fact that her high speed and great offensive power enable her to gain positions of advantage and utilize them. The A positions shown in the figures are attainable by battle cruisers against battleships, and are very effective.

A procedure analogous to that of flanking is one in which part of a force is attacked when it is separated from the rest of the force, and cannot be supported by it—in that some of the weapons of one force cannot be used. The effect is similar in the two cases, but the events leading up to the two conditions may be quite different.

In the former case, that of being flanked, or T'd, the force caught at a disadvantage was together, and was able to operate effectively as one force against a force located in a given direction; but was attacked by a force located in another direction; while in the latter case, the force was divided, and one part was caught, while distant from and entirely unsupported by the other part. The former condition is more likely to result from tactical operations, and the latter from strategical operations—and yet, especially in land operations, the flanking of one force may be brought about by the carefully planned strategical combinations of the other force; and catching one part of the enemy's force unsupported by the other parts may take place during the tactical maneuvers of an actual or a simulated battle.

In naval operations, the catching of separated parts of an enemy's force is a more frequent attempt and accomplishment than is that of getting a position where a column of ships can be attacked from ahead or astern. It seldom happens, with the great number of vessels of all kinds which compose a modern fleet, that it is practicable to keep the various parts together, or that it would be desirable to do so. The closest approximation to keeping a large naval force together, is keeping them in column; because in that formation, the ships can be made simply to "follow the leader" without signal, and act like one long, flexible body. But the vessels of a modern fleet would make a column many miles long—a column of 20 battleships alone would be 5 miles long, and the addition of the various cruisers, destroyers, and other vessels, would make a column so long that it would be unwieldy; and if its ends were attacked, the other vessels could not come to their relief. Besides, the duties of battleships, battle cruisers, scouts, destroyers, and submarines, are distinct—with the result that, as in land operations, bodies of the various types operate separately and apart from those of other types.

Not only, also, do the various types operate separately, but often the necessities of a case demand that a certain number—say of battleships—be sent away from the main body on some mission; or that a certain number of destroyers be sent away from the main body of destroyers.

Any such diversion entails a danger that is sometimes great, and sometimes small; but such diversions and risks cannot be avoided, and should not be avoided when they are necessary, any more than a man should avoid going out of doors, though that act always entails some danger. Suppose, for instance, that in the operations of a war carried on in the Caribbean, the Navy Department should get trustworthy information that the enemy had detailed 3 battle cruisers to speed north and bombard New York. The department would probably have to detach a force from the fleet and send it north, to prevent the bombardment. Yet not only would the force so sent be in danger until it returned of an attack by a superior force, but the main body from which it was detached would be thereby weakened; furthermore, the information might have been incorrect—it might have been originated and given out by the enemy, in the hope that it would cause such a diversion of force.

Every operation in war entails a risk more or less great; and if no risks were to be taken, it would be better not to go to war. It is true that some wars have been undertaken in which the preponderance of force was so great that there was very little doubt of the actual outcome, and very little risk taken by one of the two parties. Such wars, however, have been very few; and they were hardly wars in the usual sense, any more than the beating of a little boy by a big boy could properly be called a "fight."

Reference may again be made here to Table I on next page, which shows the way in which fights between unequal forces proceed, and the advantage of fighting the separated parts of an enemy rather than the united force. We can see this clearly if we note that, if two forces each aggregating 1,000 were in each other's vicinity, and if the entire force A was able to engage half of B, or 500, it would whip half of B, and have 841 remaining, with which to engage the other half (500) of B. Reference to the end of the third period in this table shows also that if a force of 789 engages a force of 523, it will have 569 left, after the other has been reduced to zero. So, a force of 1,000 that engages two forces of 500 separately, will have more than 500 left, after the others have both been reduced to zero: whereas, if it engages both, when they are united, both sides will be gradually reduced to zero, remaining equal all the time.

TABLE I Col. Col. Col. Col. Col. Col. Col. Col. Col. Col. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Value of offensive power A 1000 1000 1000 1000 1000 1000 1000 1000 1000 1000 at beginning B 1000 900 800 700 600 500 400 300 200 100 Damage done in 1st A 100 100 100 100 100 100 100 100 100 100 period B 100 90 80 70 60 50 40 30 20 10 Value of offensive power A 900 910 920 930 940 950 960 970 980 990 at end of 1st period B 900 800 700 600 500 400 300 200 100 0 Damage done in 2nd A 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 period B 90 80 70 60 50 40 30 20 10 Value of offensive power A 810 830 850 870 890 910 930 950 970 at end of 2nd period B 810 709 608 507 406 305 204 103 2 Damage done in 3rd A 81 83 85 87 89 91 93 95 period B 81 71 61 51 41 31 20 10 Value of offensive power A 729 759 789 819 849 879 910 940 at end of 3rd period B 729 626 523 420 317 214 111 8 Damage done in 4th A 73 76 79 82 85 88 91 period B 73 63 52 42 32 21 11 Value of offensive power A 656 696 737 777 817 858 899 at end of 4th period B 656 550 444 338 232 126 20 Damage done in 5th A 65 70 74 78 82 86 period B 65 55 44 34 23 13 Value of offensive power A 591 641 693 743 794 845 at end of 5th period B 591 480 370 260 150 40 Damage done in 6th A 59 64 69 74 79 85 period B 59 48 37 26 15 4 Value of offensive power A 532 593 656 717 779 841 at end of 6th period B 532 416 301 186 71 0 Damage done in 7th A 53 59 66 72 78 period B 53 42 30 19 7 Value of offensive power A 479 551 626 698 772 at end of 7th period B 479 357 235 114 0 Damage done in 8th A 48 55 63 70 period B 48 36 24 11 Value of offensive power A 431 515 602 687 at end of 8th period B 431 302 172 44 Damage done in 9th A 43 52 60 69 period B 43 30 17 4 Value of offensive power A 388 485 585 683 at end of 9th period B 388 250 112 0 Damage done in 10th A 39 49 59 period B 39 25 11 Value of offensive power A 349 460 574 at end of 10th period B 349 201 53 Damage done in 11th A 35 46 57 period B 35 20 5 Value of offensive power A 314 440 569 at end of 11th period B 314 155 0 Damage done in 12th A 31 44 period B 31 16 Value of offensive power A 283 426 at end of 12th period B 283 111 etc. Total damage done by A 717 789 800 700 600 500 400 300 200 100 B 717 574 431 317 228 159 101 60 30 10