This article has but one object in view—to call the attention of my colleagues to a book recently published, which every naval officer interested in new designs should read, mark, learn and inwardly digest. For empiricism, snap judgment and fads, it seeks to substitute features or ideas which have stood the test of war. The author holds that what the shock of battle has shown to be good ought to be retained; what that shock has shown to be valueless ought to be rejected, whether it be the material of which ships are constructed, the battery, armor, mode of propulsion, or special weapons. And the same scrutiny is applied to the tactical notions of which the ship herself is the embodiment.
If we cast our own eyes back upon the history of our new navy, we are struck by the great number of types which came into being as representing the current vogue only to fall into disfavor in the end. Such were the Katandin, the Minneapolis, the armored cruisers—to mention but a few. In no instance was any new type rigorously tested, before adoption, for its harmony with the teachings of history. Generally speaking we saw what others were doing and tried to "go them one better." If we adhere to this practice we shall sin knowingly, since Sir Reginald Custance, R. N., has opened our eyes in his "Ship of the Line in Battle."
This work, by a most thoughtful and competent student of professional matters, a 'reprint 'of Papers read at the Royal Naval College was called into being because of "the inconclusive character of the arguments usually advanced for and. against different designs for ships of the line and by the total absence of any accepted principles to govern the nature of the armament, the amount of protection and the speed." It is not a history of armored ships but a careful analysis of actions between them and between ships and fortifications made from the standpoint of strategy as well as of tactics, with a view to determining that relation between the military qualities of the fighting ship which is justified by history. There is nothing in his pages of the a priori methods which have governed naval architects the world over and to which are due the many mistakes that, too late, we all have to admit. Is the ram a good weapon? This question he answers by an appeal to fact and not to theory. Similarly he answers other questions as to the value of the gun, the torpedo and armor. He is never dogmatic; indeed it is more from inference than bold statement that his views are to be gathered. He relies, for the effect on his readers, upon a clear presentation of what has actually happened rather than upon argument. The most he allows himself in expression is a series of queries supplemented occasionally by modest suggestions. His manner is severely self-restrained—for he trusts his audience to perceive for themselves the fundamental truths which emerge from his judicial array of the details of the various engagements he discusses. Those who differ with him in the conclusions drawn must detect and point out the flaws in his contentions, must make good their position not by summarily dismissing him and them, but by a criticism as faithful and painstaking as his own.
Adequately to review a volume of this character would require vastly more space than is permissible. I shall content myself with indicating the theorems he lays down and the problems he proposes. I invite all interested in this vital matter to read his words for themselves.
In a sea-fight the object is, at all ranges and in a given time, to strike blows greater in number than those received.
Each blow must be effective, but not unnecessarily powerful, since the use of a gun heavier than is necessary means a reduction in the number of guns carried and, therefore, in the number of blows struck.
The armament of each ship should be sufficient, but not more than sufficient, to do the work, as otherwise power would be wasted, and her destruction would involve the loss of an excessive proportion of the total fleet…
The above are the main theses he undertakes to prove—not by abstract reasoning, but by appeal to what has actually happened. It is with something of a shock that we see him led into condemnation of the all-big-gun ship which has met with such general acceptance. At last and after many trials and failures, we experienced the satisfaction which accompanies a definite solution of a serious technical question and the adoption of an axiom in ship design—only to find that the axiom is challenged and disputed by one who speaks not lightly and whose opinions are based on numberless experiments in the laboratory of naval warfare. May we not, he suggests, be hasty in rejecting the composite armament characteristic of the fighting ship which was developed through a century of naval warfare?
The introduction of the carronade was a great and far-reaching departure in principle. The necessity for two distinct natures of guns on board a ship was recognized—a primary armament of long-range guns for distant firing, a secondary armament of short-range guns to increase the effect producible by a given weight of armament at "decisive ranges." Was the principle sound?..."Decisive range" may be defined as that at which the one combatant develops such a superiority of attack that the other ceases to be able to offer further effective opposition…It is not sound to accept an advantage at one range at the expense of a disadvantage at another. If the armaments are equal in weight, but are unlike, and each composed of guns of one nature, in the one case of guns more effective at long range, in the other of guns more effective at short range, the first ship will have an advantage at long distances and the second at short. Neither armament can be considered ideal. Evidently an armament composed of guns of both natures is the only arrangement which gives no disadvantage to the user at any range. . . .
Again and again he reiterates the doctrine of Farragut that the best defence is a rapid and well-aimed fire. At Sinope, at Kinburn, in the Kearsarge-Alabcrma fight, victory was won by closing in to decisive ranges and smothering the enemy by effective use of the gun. At Lissa, it was the inefficiency of the Italian admiral rather than the ram which decided the issue, yet the naval world saw only the value of a new weapon and went mad for a time. Let me quote our author's words on the necessity of careful study of past wars on the part of a commander-in-chief.
A man who has not pondered over the acts of the great leaders in wars of the past almost inevitably assumes the mental attitude of the bad workman who complains of his tools. He naturally asks for better ships and weapons, and relies on large ships, on thick armor, and on big guns. All these Persano had in preponderance on the day of battle, but they did not save him from defeat. The only safe check on such peace pedantry as his is to examine past war practice. It is only by study and reflection that an officer can come to know that victory does not depend mainly on such things, but on the courage, the will, and the intellect of the admiral, and on the spirit with which he inspires the officers and men of the fleet.
Speaking of the battle of the Yalu in 1894, Sir Reginald writes
On the part of the Japanese, with whom rested the command of speed and partial control of the range, the failure was due to fighting at long variable distances—a condition unfavorable to hitting and entailing great waste of ammunition. Admiral Ito forgot the teaching of Farragut, who at Mobile Bay showed that unarmored ships must press in to close ranges to make their fire effective against armored ships. Unlike the American admiral, the Japanese showed no determination to defeat the two Chinese ships at all costs. The root idea of his tactics was not to disarm the enemy, but to avoid being hit—not victory, but safety. He forgot that high speed and a rapidly changing range made ineffective his own fire as well as that of the enemy. The result was indecision…
At the Yalu, as in the actions between the Alabama and Kearsarge, the Atlanta and 11-eehawken, the Italians and Austrians at Lissa, and between the Huascar and Almirante Cochrane, the side which ultimately fared worst was the first to fire. To open fire at long range during the approach usually results in a waste of ammunition, shows want of confidence, and is a sign of military weakness. As a rule the winning side reserves its fire until decisive ranges are reached.
During the Russo-Japanese campaign ten years later it was shown in its first phases that
These early actions confirm previous war experience that:
1. The effective way to use the gun is to get on a course parallel to the enemy at a nearly constant range.
2. Unarmored ships are usually beaten before their floating power and stability are destroyed.
3. Superior gun-fire covers its possessor from serious loss.
4. Men will stand up to their guns without armor protection.
. . . . The Japanese, by laying mines and impeding the exit of the Russians, had deprived themselves of the opportunity to win victory…The failure of the Whitehead torpedo was complete. Was this due to inefficiency in the weapon, or to an improper method of using it? To what was the failure of the gun due? Was the gun improperly used? May it be that attacks at high speeds on opposite courses, or underhelm, do not give proper opportunities either to the torpedo or to the gun?
As to the sortie of August 10, 1904, he says:
An admiral bent on fighting at a decisive range will try to reach it as quickly as possible. The manner in which he will approach and the range at which he will turn up are nice questions, only to be decided at the time according to the conditions, of which the chief is the distance at which the enemy may be expected to hit so often that his fire must be beaten down. Togo did not make use of his opportunity in the forenoon, and. as Vitgeft wags bent on running away and not fighting, was never able to reach the decisive range at which his superior gun-fire would have enabled him to beat down quickly that of the enemy…There would have been a better chance of hitting if each ship "had taken her own bird" and kept to it, since there is a falling off in accuracy when more than two ships fire at the same enemy, and the ranges of the various enemy ships differ little when two small squadrons are in parallel lines at such long distances apart. Again, under such conditions, no enemy should be left unfired on. It is not yet known on what enemy ships the Russians directed their fire…The great tactical lessons are:
1. That crossing the T is not necessarily always effective, since the enemy's movements are not controlled by doing so, and the conditions are not usually favorable to hitting.
2. The mistake of wasting time at "long bowls."
3. The risk from chance hits during a prolonged actioniat long range.
The wiser course now, as in the past, is to close in to decisive ranges, at which the enemy's movements can be controlled and his fire dominated, and to remain there, keeping him under the fire of your own guns until he surrenders or is destroyed. "No officer can do very wrong who keeps his guns bearing on the enemy." Togo had an opportunity to do this when the fleets first met, but did not seize it, and not only risked defeat, but failed to destroy the Russians after defeating them. The ships that escaped and returned to Port Arthur landed guns, ammunition, and upwards of 2000 men, who materially strengthened its defences. The results were that 6o,000 Japanese soldiers were disabled before that fortress, and the Japanese armies were weakened in the great land battles. At the battle of Tsu Shima in the following May, the admiral showed that the lesson had been taken to heart…One-half the hits caused no casualties, and of the remainder the average number due to each 12-inch or 10-inch was about the same as that due to each 6-inch…
I am in a position to state that Sir Reginald's analysis of the various engagements between the Russians and the Japanese is based upon the most exact information obtainable—information which is beyond question even if his conclusions are not accepted. At an interesting moment of the great action between Togo and Rozhestvenski, when the latter was heavily pounding the Mikasa, he put his helm the wrong way, threw his guns off the target and threw away his one chance of victory. Doubtless the feeling that he had to do something is responsible for the tactical error which ensured his defeat. But to return to our author.
. . . . The Whitehead torpedo failed during the period of the Japanese War under review. The candid mind can hardly resist the conclusion that in a ship of the line it was then of little value, and that in the destroyer and torpedo-boat its efficiency as a weapon was then over-rated. Was this failure due to its own inherent imperfections or to its being improperly used? Probably to both causes, but certainly not to any method or practice special to the Japanese, who made as good use of their weapons as would any other nation at that time.
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The smallest gun required to maintain the ascendancy over the armor must be carried in sufficient numbers, but should not these be supplemented by others of smaller size to increase the volume of fire and to provide a larger margin for misses and failures? Ascendancy over the armor means that victory can be won in spite of it, that is to say, by perforating it if spread out, and by overwhelming the ships and crew if concentrated.
The precise sizes of these two natures of guns can be settled without difficulty, if the principle is accepted that they should be the smallest which will do the work…
An old and well-proved principle underlies the facts laid before you in these and previous papers. That principle gave the English bowmen victory in the Middle Ages, governed Napoleon's use of artillery, and enabled Wellington's thin red line to defeat Napoleon's columns. The same principle made the three-decker of the past the most powerful instrument of war at sea. The principle is the development of fire effect to the fullest extent possible. The decline in the value of armor and its possible reduction, coupled with the increased range of modern guns, are the changed conditions which enable a return to be made to the old principle.
Sir Reginald is right, it is high time to revise our methods and to design ships which embody that well-balanced proportion between the important characteristics which history has always approved. If we have, like all the rest of mankind, gone astray, we shall have no excuse for continuing in error now that we have his analysis before us. The biggest, most heavily armed and armored vessel, undoubtedly the best in single-ship actions, may not be the best when fleets are engaged. Are guns unnecessarily large for the work they have to do? Should we return to the secondary battery? If so, what ought to be its caliber? Is our armor rightly disposed? Is too much displacement accorded it? To what extent may it profitably be reduced? Have we sacrificed too much to speed? To answer these questions, which naturally arise in our minds, we shall be immensely helped by a careful study of this notable book, which I have no hesitation in repeating that all naval officers should read attentively. And this recommendation applies in particular to those who are called upon to advise the Navy Department on the plans for future constructions. Granted, for the sake of argument, that Sir Reginald is all wrong, I can imagine no more beneficial activity, on the part of those who conscientiously hold views opposed to his, than a painstaking and thorough refutation of his plea for testing new ideas by the touchstone of history. Personally, I fear they will not find the task as easy as, at first, they may be disposed to believe.