Military Readiness and Unreadiness

PUBLISHED IN THE “CENTURY,” NOVEMBER, 1899

PUBLISHED IN “CENTURY,” NOVEMBER 1899

At the outbreak of the Spanish-American War, M. Pierre Loti, member of the French Academy and cultivated exponent of the hopes and beliefs of the average citizen of Continental Europe in regard to the contest, was at Madrid. Dewey’s victory caused him grief; but he consoled himself, after watching a parade of the Spanish troops, by remarking: “They are indeed still the solid and splendid Spanish troops, heroic in every epoch—it needs only to look at them to divine the woe that awaits the American shopkeepers when brought face to face with such soldiers.” The excellent M. Loti had already explained Manila by vague references to American bombs loaded with petroleum, and to a devilish mechanical ingenuity wholly unaccompanied by either humanity or courage, and he still allowed himself to dwell on the hope that there were reserved for America des surprises sanglantes.

At the outbreak of the Spanish-American War, M. Pierre Loti was in Madrid. He was a member of the French Academy and an educated spokesman for the average Continental European’s hopes and beliefs about the conflict. Dewey’s victory grieved him. But after watching a parade of Spanish troops, he consoled himself by remarking: “They are indeed still the strong and splendid Spanish troops, heroic in every age. One need only look at them to see the misery awaiting the American shopkeepers when they face such soldiers.” The excellent M. Loti had already explained Manila with vague references to American bombs loaded with petroleum. He also spoke of a devilish mechanical ingenuity, entirely without humanity or courage. He still allowed himself to hope that America had bloody surprises in store.

M. Loti’s views on military matters need not detain us, for his attitude toward the war was merely the attitude of Continental Europe generally, in striking contrast to that of England. But it is a curious fact that his view reflects not unfairly two different opinions, which two different classes of our people would have expressed before the event—opinions singularly falsified by the fact. Our pessimists feared that we had lost courage and fighting capacity; some of our optimists asserted that we needed neither, in view of our marvelous wealth and extraordinary inventiveness and mechanical skill. The national trait of “smartness,” used in the Yankee sense of the word, has very good and very bad sides. Among the latter is its tendency to create the belief that we need not prepare for war, because somehow we shall be able to win by some novel patent device, some new trick or new invention developed on the spur of the moment by the ingenuity of our people. In this way it is hoped to provide a substitute for preparedness —that is, for years of patient and faithful attention to detail in advance. It is even sometimes said that these mechanical devices will be of so terrible a character as to nullify the courage which has always in the past been the prime factor in winning battles.

We need not dwell on M. Loti’s views on military matters. His attitude toward the war was simply that of Continental Europe generally, in striking contrast to England’s. But curiously, his view fairly reflects two opinions that two different groups of our people would have expressed before the event. Both opinions were strikingly disproved by what happened. Our pessimists feared that we had lost our courage and ability to fight. Some of our optimists claimed that we needed neither, given our remarkable wealth, inventiveness, and mechanical skill. The national trait of “smartness,” in the Yankee sense of the word, has both very good and very bad sides. One bad side is its tendency to make us believe we need not prepare for war. We think we can somehow win through some new patented device, trick, or invention that our people devise on the spur of the moment. In this way, we hope to find a substitute for preparedness. Preparedness means years of patient, faithful attention to detail in advance. It is even sometimes said that these mechanical devices will be so terrible that courage will no longer matter. Yet courage has always been the most important factor in winning battles in the past.

Now, as all sound military judges knew in advance must inevitably be the case, the experience of the Spanish War completely falsified every prediction of this kind. We did not win through any special ingenuity. Not a device of any kind was improvised during or immediately before the war which was of any practical service. The “bombs enveloped in petroleum” had no existence save in the brains of the Spaniards and their more credulous sympathizers. Our navy won because of its preparedness and because of the splendid seamanship and gunnery which had been handed down as traditional in the service, and had been perfected by the most careful work. The army, at the only point where it was seriously opposed, did its work by sheer dogged courage and hard fighting, in spite of an unpreparedness which almost brought disaster upon it, and would without doubt actually have done so had not the defects and shortcomings of the Spanish administration been even greater than our own.

The experience of the Spanish War completely disproved every prediction of this kind. All sound military experts had known beforehand that it inevitably would. We did not win through any special ingenuity. No device invented during or immediately before the war was of any practical use. The “bombs enveloped in petroleum” existed only in the minds of the Spaniards and their more gullible sympathizers. Our navy won because it was prepared. It also won because of its splendid seamanship and gunnery. These skills had become traditions in the service and had been perfected through the most careful work. The army faced serious opposition in only one place. There, it succeeded through sheer determination and hard fighting, despite being so unprepared that it nearly suffered disaster. Disaster would undoubtedly have struck if the Spanish administration’s faults and shortcomings had not been even greater than our own.

We won the war in a very short time, and without having to expend more than the merest fraction of our strength. The navy was shown to be in good shape; and Secretary Root, to whom the wisdom of President McKinley has intrusted the War Department, has already shown himself as good a man as ever held the portfolio—a man whose administration is certain to be of inestimable service to the army and to the country. In consequence, too many of our people show signs of thinking that, after all, everything was all right, and is all right now; that we need not bother ourselves to learn any lessons that are not agreeable to us, and that if in the future we get into a war with a more formidable power than Spain, we shall pull through somehow. Such a view is unjust to the nation, and particularly unjust to the splendid men of the army and of the navy, who would be sacrificed to it, should we ever engage in a serious war without having learned the lessons that the year 1898 ought to have taught.

We won the war very quickly, using only the smallest fraction of our strength. The navy proved to be in good shape. President McKinley wisely entrusted the War Department to Secretary Root. Root has already shown himself to be as good as any man who ever held the position. His leadership is certain to be of immense service to the army and the country. As a result, too many of our people seem to think everything was all right after all, and remains so. They think we need not bother to learn any lessons we find unpleasant. They believe that if we fight a more formidable power than Spain, we will somehow pull through. This view is unfair to the nation, and especially unfair to the splendid men of the army and navy. They would be sacrificed if we ever fought a serious war without learning the lessons that 1898 should have taught us.

If we wish to get an explanation of the efficiency of our navy in 1898, and of the astonishing ease with which its victories were won, we must go a long way back of that year, and study not only its history, but the history of the Spanish navy for many decades. Of course any such study must begin with a prompt admission of the splendid natural quality of our officers and men. On the bridge, in the gun-turrets, in the engine-room, and behind the quick-firers, every one alike, from the highest to the lowest, was eager for the war, and was in heart, mind, and body, of the very type which makes the best kind of fighting man. Many of the officers of our ships have mentioned to me that during the war punishments almost ceased, because the men who got into scrapes in times of peace were so aroused and excited by the chance of battle that their behavior was perfect. We read now and then of foreign services where men hate their officers, have no community of interest with them, and no desire to fight for the flag. Most emphatically such is not the case in our service. The discipline is just but not severe, unless severity is imperatively called for. As a whole, the officers have the welfare of the men very much at heart, and take care of their bodies with the same forethought that they show in training them for battle. The physique of the men is excellent, and to it are joined eagerness to learn, and readiness to take risks and to stand danger unmoved.

To explain the efficiency of our navy in 1898 and the astonishing ease of its victories, we must look much further back. We must study both its history and the history of the Spanish navy over many decades. Of course, any such study must begin by acknowledging the splendid natural qualities of our officers and men. On the bridge, in the gun turrets, in the engine room, and behind the rapid-fire guns, everyone was eager for war. From the highest to the lowest ranks, they had the heart, mind, and body of the best fighting men. Many of our ships’ officers have told me that punishments almost ceased during the war. Men who got into trouble in peacetime were so stirred and excited by the chance of battle that their behavior was perfect. Now and then, we read of foreign services where men hate their officers. They have no common interests with them and no desire to fight for the flag. That is emphatically not the case in our service. Discipline is fair but not harsh, unless harshness is absolutely necessary. As a whole, the officers care deeply about the men’s welfare. They take care of the men’s bodies with the same forethought they show in training them for battle. The men are in excellent physical condition. They are also eager to learn, ready to take risks, and able to face danger without flinching.

Nevertheless, all this, though indispensable as a base, would mean nothing whatever for the efficiency of the navy without years of careful preparation and training. A warship is such a complicated machine, and such highly specialized training is self-evidently needed to command it, that our naval commanders, unlike our military commanders, are freed from having to combat the exasperating belief that the average civilian could at short notice do their work. Of course, in reality a special order of ability and special training are needed to enable a man to command troops successfully; but the need is not so obvious as on shipboard. No civilian could be five minutes on a battleship without realizing his unfitness to command it; but there are any number of civilians who firmly believe they can command regiments, when they have not a single trait, natural or acquired, that really fits them for the task. A blunder in the one case meets with instant, open, and terrible punishment; in the other, it is at the moment only a source of laughter or exasperation to the few, ominous though it may be for the future. A colonel who issued the wrong order would cause confusion. A ship-captain by such an order might wreck his ship. It follows that the navy is comparatively free in time of war from the presence in the higher ranks of men utterly unfit to perform their duties. The nation realizes that it can not improvise naval officers even out of first-rate skippers of merchantmen and passenger-steamers. Such men could be used to a certain extent as under-officers to meet a sudden and great emergency; but at best they would met it imperfectly, and this the public at large understands.

Nevertheless, all this is an indispensable foundation. But it would mean nothing for the navy’s effectiveness without years of careful preparation and training. A warship is a complicated machine, and commanding one obviously requires highly specialized training. So our naval commanders, unlike our military commanders, do not have to fight an exasperating belief. That belief is that an average civilian could do their work with little notice. Of course, successfully commanding troops also requires a special kind of ability and specialized training. But the need is less obvious than it is aboard a ship. No civilian could spend five minutes on a battleship without realizing that he was unfit to command it. Yet countless civilians firmly believe they can command regiments. They believe this even though they lack a single trait, natural or acquired, that truly fits them for the task. A mistake aboard a ship brings immediate, visible, and terrible punishment. A mistake in command of troops, however, causes only laughter or exasperation among a few people at the time. It may nevertheless be an ominous sign for the future. A colonel who gave the wrong order would cause confusion. A ship’s captain might wreck his ship with such an order. As a result, the navy is comparatively free in wartime from senior officers who are utterly unfit for their duties. The nation understands that it cannot improvise naval officers, even from first-rate captains of merchant ships and passenger steamships. In a sudden and major emergency, such men could serve to some extent as subordinate officers. But at best they would meet the emergency imperfectly, and the public understands this.

There is, however, some failure to understand that much the same condition prevails among ordinary seamen. The public speakers and newspaper writers who may be loudest in clamoring for war are often precisely the men who clamor against preparations for war. Whether from sheer ignorance or from demagogy, they frequently assert that, as this is the day of mechanics, even on the sea, and as we have a large mechanical population, we could at once fit out any number of vessels with men who would from the first do their duty thoroughly and well.

However, some people fail to understand that much the same condition exists among ordinary sailors. The public speakers and newspaper writers who may be loudest in demanding war are often the very men who demand that we not prepare for it. Whether through sheer ignorance or demagoguery, they often make a certain claim. They say that machinery now dominates even at sea and that we have many people skilled in mechanics. Therefore, they claim, we could immediately crew any number of ships with men who would do their duty thoroughly and well from the start.

As a matter of fact, though the sea-mechanic has replaced the sailorman, yet it is almost as necessary as ever that a man should have the sea habit in order to be of use aboard ship; and it is infinitely more necessary than in former times that a man-of-war’s-man should have especial training with his guns before he can use them aright. In the old days cannon were very simple; sighting was done roughly; and the ordinary merchant seaman speedily grew fit to do his share of work on a frigate. Nowadays men must be carefully trained for a considerable space of time before they can be of any assistance whatever in handling and getting good results from the formidable engines of destruction on battleship, cruiser, and torpedo-boat. Crews can not be improvised. To get the very best work out of them, they should all be composed of trained and seasoned men; and in any event they should not be sent against a formidable adversary unless each crew has for a nucleus a large body of such men filling all the important positions. From time immemorial it has proved impossible to improvise so much as a makeshift navy for use against a formidable naval opponent. Any such effort must meet with disaster.

Although sailors have given way to marine mechanics, a man still needs almost as much experience at sea to be useful aboard ship. And a sailor on a warship needs far more specialized gun training than in the past to use his guns properly. In the old days, cannons were very simple, and aiming was rough. An ordinary merchant sailor quickly became fit to do his share of the work on a frigate. Today, men need careful training for a considerable time before they can help operate the formidable weapons on battleships, cruisers, and torpedo boats. Only then can they help make effective use of those weapons. Crews cannot be improvised. To perform at their best, crews should be made up entirely of trained and experienced men. In any case, they should not be sent against a formidable enemy without a large core of such men filling all the important positions on each crew. Throughout history, it has proved impossible to improvise even a makeshift navy against a formidable naval opponent. Any such effort must end in disaster.

Most fortunately, the United States had grown to realize this some time before the Spanish War broke out. After the gigantic Civil War the reaction from the strain of the contest was such that our navy was permitted to go to pieces. Fifteen years after the close of the contest in which Farragut took rank as one of the great admirals of all time, the splendid navy of which he was the chief ornament had become an object of derision, to every third-rate power in Europe and South America. The elderly monitors and wooden steamers, with their old-fashioned smooth-bore guns, would have been as incompetent to face the modern ships of the period as the Congress and the Cumberland were to face the Merrimac. Our men were as brave as ever, but in war their courage would have been of no more avail than the splendid valor of the men who sank with their guns firing and flags flying when the great Confederate ironclad came out to Hampton Roads.

Fortunately, the United States had come to realize this some time before the Spanish War began. The enormous strain of the Civil War left the nation so exhausted that it allowed its navy to fall apart. Farragut had become one of the greatest admirals of all time during that war. Yet fifteen years after it ended, the splendid navy he had so distinguished had become a laughingstock. Every third-rate power in Europe and South America mocked it. Its aging monitors and wooden steamships carried old-fashioned smooth-bore guns. They would have been as helpless against the modern ships of the time as the Congress and the Cumberland were against the Merrimac. Our men were as brave as ever. But in war, their courage would have been no more useful than the splendid courage of the men who went down with their guns firing and flags flying. They sank when the great Confederate ironclad came out to Hampton Roads.

At last the nation awoke from its lethargy. In 1883, under the Administration of President Arthur, when Secretary Chandler was in the Navy Department, the work was begun. The first step taken was the refusal to repair the more antiquated wooden ships, and the building of new steel ships to replace them. One of the ships thus laid down was the Boston, which was in Dewey’s fleet. It is therefore merely the literal truth to say that the preparations which made Dewey’s victory possible began just fifteen years before the famous day when he steamed into Manila Bay. Every Senator and Congressman who voted an appropriation which enabled Secretary Chandler to begin the upbuilding of the new navy, the President who advised the course, the Secretary who had the direct management of it, the shipbuilder in whose yard the ship was constructed, the skilled experts who planned her hull, engine, and guns, and the skilled workmen who worked out these plans, all alike are entitled to their share in the credit of the great Manila victory.

At last, the nation woke from its lethargy. The work began in 1883, under President Arthur, when Secretary Chandler was in charge of the Navy Department. The first step was to stop repairing the oldest wooden ships and build new steel ships to replace them. One of the ships started then was the Boston, which served in Dewey’s fleet. It is therefore literally true that preparations for Dewey’s victory began just fifteen years before he steamed into Manila Bay on that famous day. Every Senator and Congressman who voted to fund Secretary Chandler’s efforts to build a new navy deserves a share of the credit for the great Manila victory. So do the President who recommended that course and the Secretary who directly managed it. The shipbuilder in whose yard the ship was built, the skilled experts who designed its hull, engine, and guns, and the skilled workers who carried out those plans all deserve their share of the credit too.

The majority of the men can never be known by name, but the fact that they did well their part in the deed is of vastly more importance than the obtaining of any reward for it, whether by way of recognition or otherwise; and this fact will always remain. Nevertheless, it is important for our own future that, so far as possible, we should recognize the men who did well. This is peculiarly important in the case of Congress, whose action has been the indispensable prerequisite for every effort to build up the navy, as Congress provided the means for each step.

Most of the men will never be known by name. But the fact that they did their part well matters far more than any reward, whether recognition or something else. That fact will always remain. Still, for our own future, it is important to recognize the men who did well, as far as possible. This is especially important in the case of Congress. Its action was essential to every effort to build up the navy, because Congress provided the means for each step.

As there was always a division in Congress, while in the popular mind the whole body is apt to be held accountable for any deed, good or ill, done by the majority, it is much to be wished, in the interest of justice, that some special historian of the navy would take out from the records the votes, and here and there the speeches, for and against the successive measures by which the navy was built up. Every man who by vote and voice from time to time took part in adding to our fleet, in buying the armor, in preparing the gun-factories, in increasing the personnel and enabling it to practice, deserves well of the whole nation, and a record of his action should be kept, that his children may feel proud of him. No less clearly should we understand that throughout these fifteen years the men who, whether from honest but misguided motives, from short-sightedness, from lack of patriotism, or from demagogy, opposed the building up of the navy, have deserved ill of the nation, exactly as did those men who recently prevented the purchase of armor for the battleships, or, under the lead of Senator Gorman, prevented the establishment of our army on the footing necessary for our national needs. If disaster comes through lack of preparedness, the fault necessarily lies far less with the men under whom the disaster actually occurs than with those to whose wrong-headedness or short-sighted indifference in time past the lack of preparedness is due.

Congress was always divided on these measures. Yet the public tends to hold the whole body responsible for any good or bad act by the majority. In the interest of justice, a naval historian should examine the records. The historian should bring together the votes and selected speeches for and against the successive measures that built up the navy. Every man who voted or spoke in support of expanding our fleet deserves the whole nation’s gratitude. So does every man who supported buying armor, preparing gun factories, increasing personnel, and enabling them to practice. Their actions should be recorded so that their children can feel proud of them. We should also be clear about the men who opposed building up the navy throughout those fifteen years. They did the nation a disservice, whether their motives were honestly misguided, shortsighted, unpatriotic, or demagogic. So did the men who recently prevented the purchase of armor for the battleships. The same is true of those who, under Senator Gorman’s leadership, prevented the army from being placed on the footing our national needs required. If disaster comes because we are unprepared, the fault lies far less with the men in charge when disaster strikes. It lies mainly with those whose past misguided thinking or shortsighted indifference left us unprepared.

The mistakes, the blunders, and the shortcomings in the army management during the summer of 1898 should be credited mainly, not to any one in office in 1898, but to the public servants of the people, and therefore to the people themselves, who permitted the army to rust since the Civil War with a wholly faulty administration, and with no chance whatever to perfect itself by practice, as the navy was perfected. In like manner, any trouble that may come upon the army, and therefore upon the nation, in the next few years, will be due to the failure to provide for a thoroughly reorganized regular army of adequate size in 1898; and for this failure the members in the Senate and the House who took the lead against increasing the regular army, and reorganizing it, will be primarily responsible. On them will rest the blame of any check to the national arms, and the honor that will undoubtedly be won for the flag by our army will have been won in spite of their sinister opposition.

The mistakes, blunders, and shortcomings in army management during the summer of 1898 were mainly the fault of earlier public officials, not anyone in office in 1898. They were therefore also the fault of the people themselves. Since the Civil War, the people had allowed the army to deteriorate under a completely faulty administration. They had given it no chance to improve through practice, as the navy had done. Likewise, any trouble that may come to the army, and therefore to the nation, in the next few years will result from a failure in 1898. That year, we failed to provide for a thoroughly reorganized regular army of adequate size. The members of the Senate and the House who led the opposition to increasing and reorganizing the regular army will bear primary responsibility for that failure. They will be to blame for any setback to our military forces. And the honor our army will undoubtedly win for the flag will have been won despite their sinister opposition.

In May, 1898, when our battleships were lying off Havana and the Spanish torpedo-boat destroyers were crossing the ocean, our best commanders felt justifiable anxiety because we had no destroyers to guard our fleet against the Spanish destroyers. Thanks to the blunders and lack of initiative of the Spaniards, they made no good use whatever of their formidable boats, sending them against our ships in daylight, when it was hopeless to expect anything from them.

In May 1898, our battleships were stationed off Havana, and the Spanish torpedo-boat destroyers were crossing the ocean. Our best commanders were rightly worried because we had no destroyers to protect our fleet against the Spanish destroyers. But the Spaniards made mistakes and showed no initiative, so they made no good use of their formidable boats. They sent the boats against our ships in daylight, when there was no hope that the boats could accomplish anything.

But in war it is unsafe to trust to the blunders of the adversary to offset our own blunders. Many a naval officer, when with improvised craft of small real worth he was trying to guard our battleships against the terrible possibilities of an attack by torpedo-boat destroyers in the darkness, must have thought with bitterness how a year before, when Senator Lodge and those who thought like him were striving to secure an adequate support of large, high-class torpedo-boats, the majority of the Senate followed the lead of Senator Gorman in opposition. So in the future, if what we all most earnestly hope will not happen does happen, and we are engaged in war with some formidable sea power, any failure of our arms resulting from an inadequate number of battleships, or imperfectly prepared battleships, will have to be credited to those members of Congress who opposed increasing the number of ships, or opposed giving them proper armament, for no matter what reason. On the other hand, the national consciousness of capacity to vindicate national honor must be due mainly to the action of those Congressmen who have in fact built up our fleet.

But in war, we cannot safely count on the enemy’s mistakes to make up for our own. Many a naval officer must have thought bitterly of the Senate’s actions a year earlier. Those officers were trying to protect our battleships at night from the terrible possibility of attack by torpedo-boat destroyers. They had to rely on improvised craft of little real value. A year earlier, Senator Lodge and those who agreed with him had tried to secure adequate funding for large, first-rate torpedo-boats. But a majority of the Senate had followed Senator Gorman’s lead in opposing them. We all earnestly hope that we will not go to war with a formidable sea power. But if that happens, our forces may fail because we have too few battleships or because the ships are poorly prepared. Any such failure must be blamed on the members of Congress who opposed increasing the number of ships or giving them proper weapons, whatever their reasons. On the other hand, our national confidence in our ability to defend our honor must be credited mainly to the Congressmen who have actually built up our fleet.

Secretary Chandler was succeeded by a line of men, each of whom, however he might differ from the others politically and personally, sincerely desired and strove hard for the upbuilding of the navy. Under Messrs. Whitney, Tracy, Herbert, and Long the work has gone steadily forward, thanks, of course, to the fact that successive Congresses, Democratic and Republican alike, have permitted it to go forward.

Secretary Chandler was followed by a series of men who differed politically and personally. Yet each sincerely wanted to build up the navy and worked hard to do so. Under Whitney, Tracy, Herbert, and Long, the work steadily continued. This was thanks, of course, to successive Congresses, both Democratic and Republican, which allowed the work to continue.

But the appropriation of money and the building of ships were not enough. We must keep steadily in mind that not only was it necessary to build the navy, but it was equally necessary to train our officers and men aboard it by actual practice. If in 1883 we had been able suddenly to purchase our present battleships, cruisers, and torpedo-boats, they could not have been handled with any degree of efficiency by our officers and crews as they then were. Still less would it be possible to handle them by improvised crews. In an emergency bodies of men like our naval militia can do special bits of work excellently, and, thanks to their high average of character and intellect, they are remarkably good makeshifts, but it would be folly to expect from them all that is expected from a veteran crew of trained man-of-war’s-men. And if we are ever pitted ship for ship on equal terms against the first-class navy of a first-class power, we shall need our best captains and our best crews if we are to win.

But setting aside money and building ships were not enough. We must always remember that building the navy was only part of the task. It was equally necessary to train our officers and sailors through actual practice aboard ship. Suppose we had suddenly been able to buy our present battleships, cruisers, and torpedo boats in 1883. Our officers and crews at the time could not have operated them with any real efficiency. Crews assembled at short notice would have been even less able to operate them. In an emergency, groups such as our naval militia can perform certain tasks excellently. Thanks to their high average character and intelligence, they are remarkably good substitutes. But it would be foolish to expect them to do everything expected of a veteran warship crew. If we ever face a first-rate navy of a first-rate power on equal terms, ship for ship, we will need our best captains and crews to win.

As fast as the new navy was built we had to break in the men to handle it. The young officers who first took hold and developed the possibilities of our torpedo-boats, for instance, really deserve as much credit as their successors have rightly received for handling them with dash and skill during the war. The admirals who first exercised the new ships in squadrons were giving the training without which Dewey and Sampson would have found their tasks incomparably more difficult. As for the ordinary officers and seamen, of course it was their incessant practice in handling the ships and the guns at sea, in all kinds of weather, both alone and in company, year in and year out, that made them able to keep up the never-relaxing night blockade at Santiago, to steam into Manila Bay in the darkness, to prevent breakdowns and make repairs of the machinery, and finally to hit what they aimed at when the battle was on. In the naval bureaus the great bulk of what in the army would be called staff places are held by line officers. The men who made ready the guns were the same men who afterward used them. In the Engineering Bureau were the men who had handled or were to handle the engines in action. The Bureau of Navigation, the Bureau of Equipment, the Bureau of Information, were held by men who had commanded ships in actual service, or who were thus to command them against the Spaniards. The head of the Bureau of Navigation is the chief of staff, and he has always been an officer of distinction, detailed, like all of the other bureau chiefs, for special service. From the highest to the lowest officer, every naval man had seen and taken part, during time of peace, in the work which he would have to do in time of war. The commodores and captains who took active part in the war had commanded fleets in sea service, or at the least had been in command of single ships in these fleets. There was not one thing they were to do in war which they had not done in peace, save actually receive the enemy’s fire.

As the new navy was built, we had to train the men to operate it. Take the young officers who first developed the possibilities of our torpedo boats. They deserve just as much credit as their successors rightly received for handling the boats boldly and skillfully during the war. The admirals who first trained the new ships to operate in squadrons provided essential preparation. Without that training, Dewey and Sampson would have found their tasks far more difficult. As for the ordinary officers and seamen, they practiced constantly, year after year. They handled the ships and guns at sea in all kinds of weather, both alone and alongside other ships. That practice enabled them to maintain the relentless night blockade at Santiago and steam into Manila Bay in the darkness. It also prepared them to prevent machinery breakdowns, make repairs, and finally hit their targets in battle. In the naval bureaus, line officers hold most of the positions that would be called staff positions in the army. The men who prepared the guns were the same men who later used them. The Engineering Bureau included men who had operated engines in action or would do so later. The Bureau of Navigation, the Bureau of Equipment, and the Bureau of Information were staffed by men who had commanded ships in active service or would command them against the Spaniards. The head of the Bureau of Navigation is the chief of staff. He has always been a distinguished officer assigned to special duty, like all the other bureau chiefs. From the highest to the lowest officer, every naval man had seen and taken part in his wartime work during peace. The commodores and captains who took an active part in the war had commanded fleets at sea. At the very least, they had commanded individual ships in those fleets. They had done everything in peacetime that they would do in war, except actually come under enemy fire.

Contrast this with the army. The material in the army is exactly as good as that in the navy, and in the lower ranks the excellence is as great. In no service, ashore or afloat, in the world could better men of their grade be found than the lieutenants, and indeed the captains, of the infantry and dismounted cavalry at Santiago. But in the army the staff bureaus are permanent positions, instead of being held, as of course they should be, by officers detailed from the line, with the needs of the line and experiences of actual service fresh in their minds.

Contrast this with the army. The army’s men are just as good as the navy’s, and the lower ranks are equally excellent. No service in the world, on land or at sea, could have better men of their rank than the infantry and dismounted cavalry lieutenants and captains at Santiago. But in the army, positions in the staff bureaus are permanent. Of course, they should be filled by officers assigned from the line. Those officers would have the needs of the line and their experience of actual service fresh in their minds.

The artillery had for thirty-five years had no field-practice that was in the slightest degree adequate to its needs, or that compared in any way with the practice received by the different companies and troops of the infantry and cavalry. The bureaus in Washington were absolutely enmeshed in red tape, and were held for the most part by elderly men, of fine records in the past, who were no longer fit to break through routine and to show the extraordinary energy, business capacity, initiative, and willingness to accept responsibility which were needed. Finally, the higher officers had been absolutely denied that chance to practice their profession to which the higher officers of the navy had long been accustomed. Every time a warship goes to sea and cruises around the world, its captain has just such an experience as the colonel of a regiment would have if sent off for a six or eight months’ march, and if during those six or eight months he incessantly practiced his regiment in every item of duty which it would have to perform in battle. Every warship in the American navy, and not a single regiment in the American army, had had this experience.

For thirty-five years, the artillery had received no field practice that came anywhere close to meeting its needs. Nor did its practice compare in any way with that of the infantry and cavalry companies and troops. The bureaus in Washington were completely tangled in red tape. For the most part, they were run by elderly men with distinguished records of past service. These men were no longer fit to break through routine. They could no longer show the extraordinary energy, business ability, initiative, and willingness to accept responsibility that were needed. Finally, senior army officers had been completely denied the chance to practice their profession, a chance senior navy officers had long enjoyed. Whenever a warship sails around the world, its captain gains experience a regimental colonel could gain only on a six- or eight-month march. During that march, the colonel would have to drill his regiment constantly in every duty it would perform in battle. Every warship in the American navy had had this experience, but not a single regiment in the American army had.

Every naval captain had exercised command for long periods, under conditions which made up nine tenths of what he would have to encounter in war. Hardly a colonel had such an experience to his credit. The regiments were not even assembled, but were scattered by companies here and there. After a man ceased being a junior captain he usually had hardly any chance for field-service; it was the lieutenants and junior captains who did most of the field work in the West of recent years. Of course there were exceptions; even at Santiago there were generals and colonels who showed themselves not only good fighters, but masters of their profession; and in the Philippines the war has developed admirable leaders, so that now we have ready the right man; but the general rule remains true. The best man alive, if allowed to rust at a three-company post, or in a garrison near some big city, for ten or fifteen years, will find himself in straits if suddenly called to command a division, or mayhap even an army-corps, on a foreign expedition, especially when not one of his important subordinates has ever so much as seen five thousand troops gathered, fed, sheltered, manœuvred, and shipped. The marvel is, not that there was blundering, but that there was so little, in the late war with Spain.

Every naval captain had commanded for long periods under conditions that covered nine tenths of what he would face in war. Hardly any colonel had that kind of experience. The regiments were not even assembled. Their companies were scattered here and there. Once a man rose above the rank of junior captain, he usually had hardly any chance of field service. In recent years, lieutenants and junior captains had done most of the field work in the West. Of course, there were exceptions. Even at Santiago, some generals and colonels proved themselves not only good fighters but masters of their profession. In the Philippines, the war has produced admirable leaders, so that we now have the right man ready. But the general rule still holds. Even the best man alive will struggle if allowed to grow rusty for ten or fifteen years at a three-company post or a garrison near a big city. He will struggle if suddenly called to command a division, or perhaps even an army corps, on a foreign expedition. This is especially true when none of his important subordinates has ever even seen five thousand troops gathered, fed, sheltered, maneuvered, and shipped. The wonder is not that there were blunders in the recent war with Spain, but that there were so few.

Captain (now Colonel) John Bigelow, Jr., in his account of his personal experiences in command of a troop of cavalry during the Santiago campaign, has pictured the welter of confusion during that campaign, and the utter lack of organization, and of that skilled leadership which can come only through practice. His book should be studied by every man who wishes to see our army made what it should be. In the Santiago campaign the army was more than once uncomfortably near grave disaster, from which it was saved by the remarkable fighting qualities of its individual fractions, and, above all, by the incompetency of its foes. To go against a well-organized, well-handled, well-led foreign foe under such conditions would inevitably have meant failure and humiliation. Of course party demagogues and the thoughtless generally are sure to credit these disasters to the people under whom they occur, to the Secretary, or to the commander of the army.

Captain (now Colonel) John Bigelow, Jr., commanded a troop of cavalry during the Santiago campaign. In his account of his experiences, he describes the chaos and complete lack of organization during the campaign. He also describes the lack of skilled leadership that can come only through practice. Every man who wants to see our army become what it should be should study his book. During the Santiago campaign, the army came uncomfortably close to grave disaster more than once. It was saved by the remarkable fighting qualities of its individual units and, above all, by the incompetence of its enemies. Under such conditions, fighting a well-organized, well-managed, and well-led foreign enemy would inevitably have meant failure and humiliation. Of course, party demagogues and thoughtless people generally are sure to blame such disasters on those in charge when they occur, on the Secretary, or on the commander of the army.

As a matter of fact, the blame must rest in all such cases far less with them than with those responsible for the existence of the system. Even if we had the best Secretary of War the country could supply and the best general the army could furnish, it would be impossible for them offhand to get good results if the nation, through its representatives, had failed to make adequate provision for a proper army, and to provide for the reorganization of the army and for its practice in time of peace. The whole staff system, and much else, should be remodeled. Above all, the army should be practiced in mass in the actual work of marching and camping. Only thus will it be possible to train the commanders, the quartermasters, the commissaries, the doctors, so that they may by actual experience learn to do their duties, as naval officers by actual experience have learned to do theirs. Only thus can we do full justice to as splendid and gallant a body of men as any nation ever had the good luck to include among its armed defenders.

In all such cases, the blame rests far less with them than with those responsible for the system. We might have the best Secretary of War the country could offer and the best general in the army. Even so, they could not quickly get good results if the nation, through its representatives, had failed to provide adequately for a proper army. The nation must also provide for reorganizing the army and training it in peacetime. The entire staff system, and much else, should be reformed. Above all, the army should practice marching and camping together in large groups. Only this practical experience can train commanders, quartermasters, supply officers, and doctors to perform their duties. Naval officers have learned to perform theirs through actual experience. Only in this way can we do full justice to these splendid and courageous men. They are as fine a body of armed defenders as any nation has ever had the good fortune to possess.