When the grinning sons of Nippon opened their bomb bay doors at Pearl Harbor, they not only pounded a vital portion of our Pacific Fleet, but also brought home to us with stunning impact what is the real meaning of sea power. The devastation wrought that day seemed overpowering but it was only the prelude to the seizure of the Philippines and the loss of all the Asiatic peninsulas and islands between Japan and the southern tip of New Guinea. The strike at Pearl Harbor was a brilliantly conceived and executed bit of strategy. The tactics involved in its function worked splendidly, aided and abetted by our own folly and lack of preparedness. It is the purpose of this writing to attempt to point out what we believe to be one of the main reasons for just such a state of mind as that which caused us to be so ill-prepared. The idea behind this piece is to point out that for years we have been giving our grammar, high-school, and college classes courses in American History which are totally inadequate and which led us to falsely believe that we have been dominantly a land power and that our sea power is there merely to act as the first line of defense. Stress is laid upon the fact that we have a tremendous land area, as for example every school boy is conscious of the fact that the State of Texas alone is bigger than England. But the corollary fact of our widespread coast lines is given but slight reference. We have glorified the covered wagon justifiably but have been guilty of slighting the clipper ship. We are continually told about the great land campaigns of the Revolution, the War between the States, the Mexican and the Indian Wars. This is certainly good teaching because such campaigns are woven into the panoramic tapestry of our history and richly deserve study and attention by all future generations of Americans. But the relationship between our sea history and our land history unjustifiably leans too heavily in favor of the latter.
To prove the truth of that last sentence, let us delve a bit into the history of the American Revolution. Anyone having a passing acquaintance with American history knows of Bunker Hill, Valley Forge, Saratoga, and Yorktown. He or she can recall hearing of the hard cold winter of bloody feet when all seemed lost. They have heard of Gentleman Johnny Burgoyne’s expedition from Canada to New York and how it came to disaster at Saratoga. They are familiar with the picture of Lord Cornwallis surrendering his sword at Yorktown. But when the sea aspect of the war is mentioned, they will reflect deeply for a moment and then brighten up as they recall John Paul Jones. A few will even mention the Bon Homme Richard defeating the Serapis while a paucity may have heard of John Barry and some of the New England privateers. But if you were to mention the name of De Grasse, we are afraid all you would elicit by way of information would be a blank stare. Then for the sake of contrast, mention the name of Lafayette. That will be greeted by instantaneous recognition. Everyone recognizes Lafayette, but how many know the name of De Grasse. Very few, we assure you. You can give reference to Yorktown and practically all can give you some idea of what it means, but just speak about the Battle of the Virginia Capes and little or no intelligence will be shown on the subject.
Yet the battle off the Virginia Capes was one of the most decisive in the world’s history because it was the blow that crushed England’s hopes of ending her war with the Colonies in any length of time that would not drive her to financial ruin and seriously weaken her for a coming conflict with France.
The manner in which the engagement came about proves that Washington, a great general, had a fine conception of what sea power could really achieve in affecting the movements of land-based armies. It is worth a general description as a good example of how our first President and Commander in Chief fully realized the implications of sea power and utilized them to bring about the conclusion of the war.
Lafayette was above Cornwallis on the Virginia peninsula but not in sufficient strength to bring the issue to a successful conclusion nor did he have any control of the sea to prevent either Cornwallis from being reinforced or making good his escape upon the arrival of a British fleet. Washington was above New York City and Rochambeau was at Newport. Then Washington conceived his strategy, which was of an alternative nature. He sent a fast packet to the West Indies where De Grasse was lying with 28 ships of the line. He begged him to set forth at once for a rendezvous either at the Chesapeake or at New York. Word would arrive later as to which spot had been picked. The main idea was for De Grasse to get started. The French admiral acted with admirable speed. He embarked 3,000 troops, put in at Havana and wheedled the necessary gold out of the Spanish authorities. Then, receiving word from Washington, he set sail for the Chesapeake Bay. Meanwhile Rochambeau had joined forces with Washington above New York, where they threatened Clinton in the city. This was but a feint and the combined forces set out to join Lafayette.
Also seven French ships with artillery and supplies had shipped out of Newport under De Barras to effect a junction with De Grasse. The English, by now, had an idea of what was brewing and Admiral Hood with fourteen ships of the line headed for the Chesapeake to pursue De Grasse. Hood looked into the bay several days before De Grasse’s arrival and saw nothing, so he turned northward to intercept the French train. He left two picket frigates at the entrance of the bay to look for the arrival of De Grasse and report to him accordingly. These foolishly entered the Chesapeake itself and when De Grasse showed up were trapped and could not fulfill their mission of carrying word to Graves.
De Grasse entered between the capes and anchored in Lynnhaven Bay, just inside Cape Henry, to await the arrival of De Barras. The English, meanwhile, had turned southward again and on September 5 were sighted by De Grasse, who instantly weighed anchor and led his ships out of the bay in single column formation. The English swung into a corresponding formation and they cruised side by side. De Grasse was refraining from joining battle despite his superiority of 24 ships to 19. He had left his other four ships up inside the Chesapeake. De Grasse’s aim was to draw the British away from the entrance in order that De Barras, whose arrival he expected momentarily, might enter unopposed. Graves intended to force the action and swung his van toward the French line. This, of course, put his leading ships at a disadvantage by virtue of the fact they were forced to advance headlong against the French broadsides. There was further complication added. The six ships in the rear were commanded by Admiral Hood, who was junior to Graves. It appears that Graves and Hood had experienced previous differences in opinion and Graves was not the type of man to encourage any independent thought or initiative in his subordinates.
Graves, on joining the engagement, had hoisted the signal for line of battle formation. When he hoisted his signal to follow the van and engage the enemy at close quarters, he neglected to haul down his previous signal so that the two were flying together. This made for a dubious ambiguity but one that should not excuse Hood, for the intervening captains understood Graves’ intent and swinging their ships, they followed him. Hood chose to stand by the first signal, and for all practical purpose his division was never in the fight. Graves sustained varying damage to five ships and was forced to withdraw. Then for five days, the two fleets cruised alongside without again joining battle. De Grasse turned about and when he sighted the Chesapeake, he realized the success of his strategy for De Barras had arrived with his seven ships. These, combined with his other four ships, gave De Grasse a total of 35. Graves realized the situation was out of his hands and made sail for New York. The unfortunate Cornwallis was now completely surrounded and, after a three weeks’ siege, surrendered and with him went England’s hope of success against the Colonies. The Colonies were free and became the United States of America, but how many could tell who De Grasse was, or what the Battle of the Virginia Capes accomplished, after taking a course in American history in our own schools?
We will grant that the sea engagement was very unspectacular, there were no great deeds of heroism involved, no queens of the sea dying in tragic glory; yet, it was such an engagement that shaped the future course of the world’s history.
It was a decisive factor in the winning of the Revolution, and the course of history would have been greatly altered if there had never been any United States. Certainly, the later German aim for domination of Europe would have been greatly simplified.
Yet the lesson of sea power was lost upon the Colonies, as, for some mysterious reason, it has been lost upon all successive generations of Americans until they are drawn into combat and feverishly build their weapons. Our infant government, in its inception, did not even bother to have a navy department.
Several decades later came the war with the Tripolitan pirates and here our tiny fleet distinguished itself brilliantly. The U.S.S. Constitution laid the foundations for her brilliant naval future and the names of Decatur and O’Bannon are still with us. There were great feats of gallantry but it must be remembered that Tripoli had no such fleets as did the European powers. They did not have ships of size, quality, and fire power equal to ours. It was a dashing victory but so easily won at such a distance, that it gave the American public a sense of confidence that a small navy as ours did not warrant. For the fact that we were not a major sea power very soon became sadly apparent.
The English took to stopping our merchant ships on the high seas and impressing our seamen under the pretext they were deserters from the English Navy. In some cases this was undoubtedly true, but it is an excessive humiliation for a nation to undergo when her commerce is stopped and searched and she can only reply by threats and impotent rage.
Then came the War of 1812 which, more than any other, has been completely misunderstood by the average American. It has contributed tremendously to our apparent total misconception of what warfare on the seas really involves.
It was a day of glory for the ships of our Navy, granted. But we mean a day of glory for the individual ships of our Navy-—not for the navy as a fleet acting upon a grand strategy with concerted tactics.
The average American will tell you with complete confidence that we defeated the English on the seas in 1812. Nothing could be further from the truth.
True, the Constitution, the Wasp, the Hornet and others emblazoned glorious victories in our history, but let us be realists and not overlook the cold hard facts. Let us look at the record. The British fleet sailed up the Chesapeake and their troops burned our capital. They gradually cut our commerce down to a mere trickle. After the war had actually ended, our sea support at the highly strategic port of New Orleans was limited, and in part furnished by Lafitte, a pirate despite the legends that have grown up around the man.
Are we, as a people, aware of this at all? Mention the War of 1812 and practically everyone will think of the battle between “Old Ironsides” and the Guerriére.
We are not being cynical and attempting to minimize the importance of such a battle as proving that our ships and men, when equally matched, were the peers or superiors of any in the world. Nor are we overlooking the victories won by Perry and Macdonough on the Lakes, but the value of their victories is constantly overlooked and the sole meaning of them to most people is “We have met the enemy and they are ours.” It makes one wish we could dispense with deathless phrases and really concentrate upon why those battles were fought and what was achieved by their outcome.
Thus it is that the War of 1812 lives in the American mind as a great victory which it, decidedly, was not. We are afraid that it has helped tremendously to keep our thoughts as to sea power in the badly warped condition which was prevalent prior to Pearl Harbor.
As to the true role of the Navy in the Mexican War and in the great blockade of the Confederacy plus the smashing of the river forts, which made possible Grant’s campaign in the west, any conscientious reader of history can soon discern how relatively important it was.
The Spanish-American War had good fleet action but was fought against an ill- equipped fleet of a decaying power. The first World War gave us good lessons in convoy and submarine warfare but the Argonne and Chateau Thierry completely obscure the sea in our minds, despite the fact that Germany almost brought England to her knees in the great submarine blockade. That should have been a warning in our minds that a new element had proved successful in sea warfare and that other nations were becoming aware of sea power—yet we slumbered. And the first years of the Second World War saw the subs raise havoc with our ocean-going and coastwise commerce. We were not ready. The Navy did not have enough equipment and personnel to smash the U-boats until two years after the war had begun. Why was this? We shall answer later.
The Navy has always commonly been referred to as the first line of defense. In truth, it is the prime barrier that a foe striking at our land must surmount. But is it not even truer that the Navy is also our first line of offense? It is universally acknowledged that fear of our fleet, badly weakened though it was, kept the Japanese from actual invasion of Hawaii and the Alaskan mainland, plus raids in force on our Pacific coast. The fact that the Navy is our primary weapon of offense in the greatest of oceans is apparent to any reader of today’s headlines. The islands of the Pacific stand as mute witnesses to that fact. They are mute now because the thunder of floating artillery has liberated them from Jap bondage and pressed westward for other shores to conquer.
Whenever there is’danger, we instinctively turn to the sea for salvation and as an instrument by which we may achieve our retribution.
We are a continent, but, geographically for purposes of defense, we are akin to an island. Any invasion from east or west must deal directly with our sea power. That sea power must be conquered and destroyed before a successful landing could be made on our shores. It would not suffice to hold our fleet in check temporarily in order to effectuate the actual landing, for any break through on our part would destroy the expedition.
An invasion from the south must also smash our sea power, since jungles block invasion by land. Also the Isthmus of Panama is highly vulnerable if a ring of steel were to clamp it from both sides. For the north we believe is perhaps our greatest danger point. We are susceptible to air attack from that direction especially on our highly geared industrial centers of the Middle West and the arteries of our vital railroad lines.
But this war has proved that air power alone cannot successfully invade. Crete is the only exception and Crete offers a farfetched comparison with the United States in size, population, and ability to defend itself.
So much for the defense, but there is one more objection. This war has seen the collapse of defenses by the simple expedient of outflanking them. The Germans outflanked the Maginot line and we outflanked their defenses at Caen. Both instances left the rest of France like a plum ripe for picking. At the moment of this writing, air-borne troops and British ground forces are attempting to outflank the Siegfried line. We believe the results will be the same.
Therefore in offering a fleet as the primary line of defense, can it be outflanked? The answer is no. For a fleet has that factor which is missing in the great fixed land defenses, namely the factor of mobility. A fleet is not chained to any one spot. Its location is not exact and it cannot be determined in advance as to whether it can be detoured with safety.
We will agree that it is quite possible that in another decade the fleet could be hurdled by an attacking force through the air, but such force could only be a raider and not an invader. Even then, our aerial arm of the fleet operating from a thousand or more miles distant from our shore would have a good deal to say about the ease and cost of such an attempt.
Another lesson once again taught by this war is that defensive warfare does not pay. It is terrifically costly in loss both of life and property to the homeland. The civilians are hammered mercilessly. The very thing for which practically all men fight, their homes, is subject to terrific devastation and ruin. It was so in England in 1940 and 1941 till air superiority changed hands. It has been so in China for seven long years. Ask Rotterdam, Naples, Cherbourg if defensive warfare can be successfully waged? The war lords of Japan can also bear witness as to the efficacy of the defense.
The best defense is a good offense, and that should be our realistic interpretation of a great and mighty armada. It should be regarded not as our first line of defense but as our first line of offense, our devastating weapon which would cause any future paper hanger or samurai to think long and hard before setting out on any bloody road to conquest.
We must realize our fleet cannot only defend our shores but carry war to the enemy’s. It cannot only defend our cities and industries but destroy those of our opponents. But to accomplish this, we must think along practical lines. We claimed sovereignty over the Philippines, watched the Rising Sun come over the horizon, and made very little effort to bolster our position for the eventual showdown that was apparent to all but us. When the tornado struck, our naval position collapsed overnight.
We could not defend the islands. We did not have bases of size and strength sufficient to hold the line till help could come from the mainland. We did not have bases across the Pacific between Hawaii and the Islands that could defend themselves and keep the Central Pacific supply line open.
We, in our lack of conception of sea power, had permitted the Japanese Empire to take possession of almost all the islands that flanked our route to the Philippines. We showed the same weakness when we sat idly by, while we were certain that Japan was fortifying the mandated islands. Fortifying for what and against whom? Looking backward, if it is not too much like Monday morning quarter-backing, it becomes painfully obvious that all her moves in those islands were directed against us. And we not only stood by while this was taking place but even helped by selling oil and steel which were major shortages of the Japs. We did not stand by in complete idleness but even helped a highly potential foe to arm and entrench herself against us. It is doubtful if history will ever see such an example of sheer stupidity again, and we are all equally guilty, so please do not pass the stones.
When this war ends we shall be possessor of the world’s finest and largest Navy. It will be the equal or the superior of the combined fleets of all the other nations. What shall we do with it and what shall be our policy towards it? It is a question that is momentous and to which we must give very serious consideration. Shall we follow our post-war policy of the twenties and scuttle our ships or leave them to rot in docks or isolated waterways?
Shall we keep our Navy at its present size and perhaps become might-conscious ourselves? With such a great fleet at our disposal, there will undoubtedly exist a temptation to regard force as the primary means of arbitration. Can anyone sit at the wheel of a low-slung speed roadster without being tempted to step on the gas? History says that, basically, all nations feel an urge to expand and have their influence felt in the far corners of the globe. Such an urge will come to us and we must beware of it.
One obvious answer would be to scrap a large portion of our fleet and whittle it to the size of our neighbors. That was tried before, and the crosses that extend the width of the Pacific plus the bodies washed ashore on our east coast testify as to how effective it was.
How then can we regard our fleet? We can regard it as a trust that we have created ourselves so that our children and their children may live their years in peace and never know the threat of war. It can stand as a living shield between us and possible aggressors. In company with ships of other nations, it can help to patrol the seas, to spread colonization and to raise standards of living for the universe. It will be tremendously expensive, but so is insurance for dynamiters, and who can say that, for some time to come, this poor old world will not resemble a smoldering powder keg.
Expense in dollars and cents is always a relative figure. We saved money for twenty years after the first World War, but what a price we are paying now! We saved our pennies through the week days that we might experience a frightful binge over the week end with a terrific resultant hangover. Is the story of Bataan, in all its harrowing details, worth showing a saving in current expenditures? It is gospel truth that a strong man must keep his arms lest another stronger than he come along and take all his goods and possessions.
It is probable that after the war we are going to have some form of compulsory military training for our youth, and likely it will be upon their graduation from high school in most cases. Could not a plan be adopted and made workable whereby the year’s training could be divided into three phases? The first to the Army with infantry, artillery, tanks and engineers; the second phase to the combat ships of the Navy, and the third phase to amphibious warfare which could be jointly administered by Army, Navy, and Marines. We know that men can get a surprising amount of training in four months, and the experience gained in any one of the three phases would augment that gained in the other two.
The amphibious phase of the training would also solve the problem of what to do with all our flotillas of landing craft that are very handsomely equipped and will give years of excellent training service.
Best of all, such a program would give our young men a well-rounded training in all aspects of the military situation that exists for America in time of war. It would give them an intelligent view of the problems that we must meet squarely and solve if we are to enjoy at least more than a quarter century of peace. We can never again afford to bury our heads in the sand while exposing ourselves to imminent danger. We got away with it once but the sands of time have a habit of running out against the procrastinator. We could have suffered far greater damage in this present war, and it will be folly to assume that future aggressors will not have perceived the mistakes and lost opportunities of our present opponents. Remember Germany did not repeat her mistake of the Marne in her blitz of 1940.
Our young men will have a chance to see the vast boundaries of water that give America her initial protection. They will have a chance to understand the basic problems of sea warfare; of what naval bases really mean to offense and defense. They will have a chance to see the peoples of the world, to become acquainted with them and return home far better for the experience. They will be able to form an intelligent electorate and our whole national position will thereby be enhanced. For it is the weakness of a democracy that it is frequently divided on essential matters and cannot act with the decisive speed of a totalitarian state! A democracy always loses out in the initial speed. A democracy aroused is unbeatable, but will it always be given the proper amount of time in which to shake off its lethargy?
Another weakness of a democracy is that it is not to be relied upon for a definite, enduring policy. One election can bring about a complete change in our national outlook. We can go to bed as a nation with one idea and wake up cheerfully in the morning with the opposite concept. Such a condition may be pleasant enough for us to live by, but in a world where survival might be the main problem, it becomes a luxury that must be dispensed with or we shall pay for the folly of it. The ocean spaces have saved us from paying the price before, and each day the relative distance of that ocean space decreases bit by bit.
Are we to remain unaware of this fact and continue to put our faith in the huge continental expanse of our land? Can we not see that once our outer wall is breached, then it will be our land that will be ravaged and laid waste as we have seen happen to Russia, France, Holland, and the others?
Mahan predicates a solid merchant marine as the main justification for a fleet. We beg to differ and submit the point that air power, a condition unknown in Mahan’s time, has altered the strategic picture to that extent. It is a question that is arguable and our sole hope is that there will be a sufficient number of intelligent Americans to argue the point.
We must remember that a peacetime Navy in America can be no greater than the funds which Congress wishes to provide for it. If we have several economy-minded sessions then the fleet will dwindle and die a death of neglect and decay. It is going to be expensive and it will hit us in our pocketbooks where it hurts the most. It may even cost us so much that we shall be obliged to forego luxuries for its support. Your professional pacifists will howl and form a highly militant minority. Strange how pacifists can be so very aggressive when pursuing their ends. Those who bore the brunt of the fighting in this war will be seeking only peace and quiet; attempting to make up for the lost years. The Navy will need staunch friends who will battle for it in forums and in the legislative chambers.
If our people were intelligently aware of the decisive role of sea power, there would be less to fear. Here the author can make one definite suggestion, which is decidedly simple, very easy to carry out, and will not cost a penny. It is this: Our high-school graduates form the greater bulk of our electorate, and most of our states require a course in American history to be completed before awarding a diploma. Why not integrate as a part of that course, the requirement that every student, male and female, read Mahan’s Influence of Sea Power upon History and write a 3,000-5,000-word book review upon that work?
Undoubtedly there will be a large number of students who will copy canned versions of the book. The time is not wasted, for if one goes into a swimming pool, he gets wet even if he doesn’t swim and enjoy it. And there will be a sizable percentage who will read the book and have their eyes opened. Perhaps they will have acquired real vision and they will begin to understand the sea.
The sea is a wonderful defender of human rights. Those who love and abide with her are never slaves. Those who are afraid of her and cannot love her spend their days in fear.
She has kept us free for better than a century and a half. Let us not turn our backs to her in the flush of victory, for hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and the day of reckoning would eventually arrive.
“You shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free.” That great phrase to us contains the further phrase, “You shall love the sea and the sea shall keep you free.”