Gentlemen:—In accordance with the custom of the College, it becomes my duty to-day to bring the session of 1897 to a close with what may perhaps be not inaptly termed an epilogue. As in the case of a piece performed upon the stage, in the olden time at least, a prologue also was often spoken, either by the author himself or by one of the chief actors in the play. In this prologue were outlined the leading features or the motive of the drama. The unities have been preserved in this instance by the admirable and stirring address of the Assistant Secretary, which has served to toughen our moral sinews and kindle afresh a latent or waning patriotism. The overture to the piece was then introduced. It was, as you may remember, the explanation of the course, largely the work of my predecessor. I served in the main merely as the mouthpiece by which his written words were converted into speech. And now comes the valedictory.
In recalling to mind the explanation of course, I am sure there will recur to you certain distinguishing traits. And it is in contrasting these traits with subsequent developments that we shall be best able to decide as to whether the results of the session have been at all commensurate with the prospect which that address held forth.
The most important characteristic, in my opinion, was its lack of promise. The College distinctly disclaimed the position of teacher, and only claimed that of fellow-student. This stand, I think, was consistently taken and has been as consistently adhered to. The time may come when, after the College shall have collected and stored and digested and codified a large amount of professional wisdom, it may not improperly pose before the service in a more ambitious light and frankly demand recognition as authority upon the subjects with which it deals; but I am sure that all of you will agree with me that at present its attitude is commendably modest. Furthermore, I take pleasure in acknowledging its indebtedness for many valuable ideas and suggestions, both as to methods and matter, the outcome of your sympathetic labors.
In certain ways, I think the course this year may compare favorably with its predecessors. I could have wished longer time and better opportunity for taking up the subject of International Law in a connected manner, although the facilities of the library in general, and the works of Professor Snow in particular, to which attention has been drawn in the scheme of reading suggested for the officers in attendance, will doubtless have remedied, to a large extent, this unavoidable omission. The questions of International Law which most nearly concern the naval officer are usually those which flow from his responsibilities when in command abroad. To illustrate such points, certain situations, so-called, have been presented for your consideration, and your opinion has been invited as to the course which should be pursued by the officer present in senior command. The situations represent cases which have actually occurred, or those which, under present conditions of international politics, are not unlikely to arise. To analyze such situations and to advance a solution which should represent not only the personal opinion of the writer, but be furthermore justified on the ground of precedent or treaty right, authorities had to be consulted and weighed. Thus you were made familiar with the works which stand highest in professional esteem, and also with the means of using them. In saying this I do not so much depreciate the value of a continuous series of lectures on the general topic, as I seek consolation in the reflection that, under the circumstances, an exceedingly satisfactory substitute was found. It is fitting that I should record and express my deep obligations in many ways to my late colleague, Commander McCalla, to whose ingenuity and judgment these valuable situations are due.
The College has again to congratulate itself upon having enjoyed the privilege of hearing the subject of strategy treated by the gentleman who is recognized throughout the world to-day as the person most competent to speak upon it with authority. Captain Mahan has confided to me his hopes that the naval service will sooner or later furnish him an understudy, in the person of an officer who will take up the questions with which Captain Mahan is so closely identified and which he has made his own. In these days, when it is difficult to discover a special field not already preempted and thoroughly tilled, it is encouraging to find that Captain Mahan recognizes the existence of room for men of his own way of thinking, and stands ready to make over to his successor, when he shall appear, such tools as can be passed from hand to hand. It is probable, indeed almost certain, that some one of you here present may, in future years, thank me for this remark leading to the adoption of a professional career full of usefulness, of absorbing interest, and of honor. But he who would follow in Mahan's footsteps must, like Mahan, begin his studies in early youth. Besides this broad treatment of the subject of strategy, you have furthermore been unconsciously imbibing its fundamental notions while studying the history of naval and military operations, as contained in the scheme of reading. In a humble way, the president of the College has pointed out a few of the considerations which seem to him of exceptional weight in determining the strategy of coast defense.
It is necessary from time to time to study and to restudy, even to rediscover, a truth which, perfectly well known at all times, becomes obscured by the passing fancies of the moment, which exercise a dominant power over our faculties. Thus it is with strategy. We are told that its principles are immutable and that these immutable principles are imbedded in naval history, and that if we would rightly apprehend their application we must read not only the history of our own time, but also the history of times far remote. In no other ways can we be permitted to concede the universality of the laws of strategy. Only thus can we fit ourselves for readily apprehending the true course of naval events in the past or for controlling them in the future. I would therefore earnestly urge you all to acquire the habit of reading naval history in a critical and analytical spirit, in order that the true relation of the facts to each other may appear. I say boldly that strategy is a matter of study, and of study alone. A few of its minor problems may possibly be solved, after a fashion, by utilizing several very large fleets over a somewhat restricted territory. Great Britain notably, and France less satisfactorily, have dealt with certain interesting phases of strategy by means of their naval manceuvers, but where, as with us, the theater of operations is large and the fleets small, the study of strategy must be confined to the shore; the fleet is incapable of dealing with it.
The theoretical discussion of the subject of tactics was less full than usual or than had been planned, owing to the unavoidable absence of certain officers upon whom the College has been accustomed to rely for assistance in the past. I am confident, however, that you have derived much benefit from the tactical games, which have at least taught you some things which a fleet should not do, and that you have learned from the tactical situations to weigh well the evidence presented in reports from scouts operating in a theater of war. The proper handling of vessels in groups should become, through practice afloat, a second nature with us. This instruction it is the business of the fleet to impart, but the combined evolutions of a fleet from now till the crack of doom would be barren of result in training the mind to penetrate correctly the plans of an enemy, as revealed in the movements of his detachments. The College alone deals with this matter, so vitally important to success in warfare, and it claims to deal with it in the best manner possible, viz: the manner of Clausewitz and Von Moltke.
The single-ship game has made a distinct step forward, through the introduction of the torpedo as a weapon. Experience and study will improve this as well as the other game, so that they may more nearly represent the conditions of actual warfare. It should be borne in mind, however, that a reasonable approximation is the best we can hope for. This much is undoubtedly true, that he who is expert in manoeuvering fleets and ships on the boards of the College will possess a marked advantage afloat, in the more serious game, over his competitor who has been less fortunate in preliminary training.
In the strategic game, fifteen situations have been played during the session. Much interest has been shown and many conclusions of former years have been verified. Valuable suggestions as to changes in the rules of the game have been offered. They will be embodied in the code of rules, if found practicable and expedient.
Naturally, because of the imperfections that must necessarily exist in this mimic warfare, its results can not be accepted in their entirety, but must be analyzed and digested before they can be made the basis of future campaigns.
Certain truths, however, stand out so clearly that we are led to believe, though their importance may be exaggerated by the game, that they exist in the real game of war, as well as in its paper-and-pencil representation.
A great many principles of sea strategy may be deduced from land strategy directly. The strategic game shows most conclusively the necessity of concentrating the fighting force of the fleet. Strong scouting detachments may, and often must be, sent out from the main body, but he who scatters the fighting force (the battle-ships) of the fleet, is vanquished at the outset. The fighting force should be like a spider in the center of his web. The web, the scouts, extending in every direction, but serves to ensnare the foe. The spider, the fleet, should be ready to move instantly, in the direction indicated by the trembling threads, ready to destroy its prey before the slender tissue breaks.
Concentration means strategic life, and dispersion strategic death. Compactness and mobility, too, are essential. Captain Mahan has shown by his analysis of the campaigns of Napoleon in northern Italy that the victories of this great general were due almost entirely to the fact that he kept his forces concentrated, throwing out only small detachments, in order to gain time to move the "central mass," as he styled it, against the enemy's weakest point.
It may be accepted as strategically wrong ever to divide the fighting force into detachments, any one of which is tactically weaker than the enemy's entire force. This fact precludes the dispersion of the ships of the fleet to defend various ports on the coast line, and compels their concentration into a formidable force at the place of greatest strategic value upon the coast.
The strategic game aids us in determining the strategic value at different points. This value of a point depends upon (1) its position, (2) its defensibility, and (3) its resources. The value of position is clearly shown by the strategic game. Its defensibility belongs to tactics and its resources to logistics. Value due to position is relatively fixed. Man may increase the defensibility and resources of a point, in fact he may almost create these; but he can do little to create or destroy that value of a point which is due to its position. Canals and railroads undoubtedly modify the value derived from position, but this modification is, generally speaking, but slight at most.
It seems to me that this search for points whose position gives them strategic value is the prime object of the strategic game. Next in order comes the study of the means of gaining and transmitting intelligence. An admiral may often fail, though he posts his forces at the best strategic points, if information of his adversary's movements is meagre or tardy.
Having sought out the points of great strategic value by means of the strategic game, we next vary the amount of information that an admiral possesses of his adversary's movements, as well as the rapidity of its transmission. By repeated trials we finally establish the amount necessary to success and also the rapidity with which it must be transmitted. With this desideratum in view, we seek to find the means by which we may gain this necessary amount, and by which it can be transmitted with all possible speed.
The natural conclusion arrived at is that scouts and signal stations cannot be too numerous, too well organized, nor too efficient. Scouting on the sea is more difficult than on land. Fleets, unlike armies, leave little or no trace. The mute waters close behind the vessels and hide their secrets forever.
To insure rapidity of transmission, a perfect network of cables must exist, and a corps of trained operators and signalmen must be organized. Carrier pigeons may play an important role in the transmission of information. A system of scouting that will prove infallible is yet to be devised.
Various systems have been tried in the strategic game, but none have as yet proved entirely satisfactory. The process so far has been one of elimination. Scouting by means of a single vessel, and by means of an extended line, the vessels of which are out of signal distance, were inefficient. Scouting by means of vessels in groups of two or three and the use of the French method known as the curve of pursuit have been attended with more or less success. They demand further trial.
The requisites for scouts, as pointed out in the strategic game, are speed, handiness, great coal endurance, and moderate fighting power. These considerations point to the fitting out of the large transatlantic liners for this duty.
On the other hand, the requirements for the vessels of the fighting force exact battle-ships of moderate size, great handiness, small draft, moderate speed and coal endurance, and great fighting power.
Summing up then, the lessons of the strategic game so far are: (1) The necessity for concentrating the fighting force and for keeping it always in communication with the scouts and signal stations. (2) The importance of an extensive and well organized system of scouts and signal stations. (3) The necessity of constant and persevering playing of the games.
Besides being an indispensable means of studying strategy, the strategic game is a most valuable exercise in writing clear, precise orders—orders that, though short, admit of no misinterpretations and provide for all probable contingencies. Great discretion- must necessarily be left to the commanders of detached forces, and yet such commanders must be made familiar with the plans and wishes of the commander-in-chief and be able to communicate with him at all times. How often in the strategic games have we seen commanders of scouts at a loss to know what to do, because their orders were not clear or complete, or because the commander-in-chief had changed his plan, on account of some unforeseen contingency, and had made no provision for a change of plan. Nor is this experience confined to our games here. The instance of the false start of the Spanish Armada will suggest itself to your mind. The scattered condition of the fleet was occasioned by lack of knowledge on the part of the captains of Medina's purpose, after the gale which overtook them off Finisterre.
Time is too brief to do more than refer to the obligations under which the College lies to those gentlemen, whether of the Navy or from civil life, who have kindly placed their time and thought and experience at its service. From the lectures they have delivered you have drawn fresh inspiration for labor in the path of duty, and clearer light to make that plain. It must appear to all eminently proper that to one of these addresses I should make particular allusion; I refer to that entitled "A Civilian's View of the Navy," by Moorfield Storey, Esq. This address will long remain in the minds of those fortunate enough to hear it as a model of lofty motive, scholarly learning, and finished expression. Its earnest appeal for that sincerity and courtesy between nations which mark the intercourse of gentlemen, will not be without influence among those who might be disposed to hold that a nation is absolved through its power from the obligation of scrupulous deference to the rights of other nations. It is idle to claim that no excuse exists for the utterance of these words of caution, in view of certain events not very far remote, in time at least. I am happy to be able to believe that the distinguished lecturer left us with the conviction that the events thus vaguely referred to were not to be taken as indicative of a general spirit throughout the service, that naval officers are not selfish enough to foment international quarrels in order to further their own ends, that among them jingoes are conspicuous by their absence, and that the official designation of this institution is not to be interpreted as implying the preaching of war as an end, but rather as a means to an end, and that end—peace.
Just as it is necessary, from time to time, to rediscover old truths, so must we, now and then, combat and recombat an ever-recurring error. Some heresies die hard. To those who would find fault with the College because of its alleged "unpracticalness," I strongly commend the reading of Captain Mahan's address on that subject, delivered here on September 6, 1892, and printed in No. 66 of the Proceedings of the Naval Institute. He says, "I propose to maintain that, in its common significance, the word practical is just as applicable to the processes of thought which precede action as it is to the action which follows thought and reflection; the only difference being that, taking the whole process of thought and action together, the thought which dictates the action is more practical, is of a higher order of practicalness than the resulting action itself." He likens the selfstyled practical man, who would, for example, abolish the College and use the fleet without previous and continued study, to the practical man who contemns the preliminary, the paper work of the architect. He adds suggestively, "If you think so—that is, if you think this kind of work unpractical—gather your mechanics and your hod-carriers, provide your material of bricks and mortar, and then, setting to work without your designs and calculations, rejoice in the evidence of practical efficiency you have displayed to the world."
The wonderful results of the Marengo campaign, which he cites as following upon the patient and prolonged studies of Bonaparte, should in themselves be answer sufficient to the critics who question the thorough practicality of the work done here—unless indeed these gentlemen are in a position to furnish real ships and live men to be destroyed in the cause of the science of naval warfare.
The College has no hesitation in admitting its many sins of omission and commission, while at the same time claiming sincerity of purpose. It looks to those who, like yourselves, have passed through its course, to bring the valuable aid of suggestion and counsel to its management, that the unnecessary or irrelevant (if there be such) may be eliminated, and that important matter or topics at present unrecognized or unappreciated be added in their place. It is largely a new experience which is being tried here. Success will crown our efforts if the aim be useful and worthy, if the efforts employed be earnest and honest, and if those who know both its merits and shortcomings, and are in sympathy with its objects, give it the benefit of the good word, kindly and appositely spoken.
The existence of every university, school, or college in this land lies in the affection and pride of its alumni. The War College is not exempt from this limitation. If you who have spent the past months (far too few and short for our purpose) within its walls leave it with the conviction that you are better equipped for your duty because of the opportunities offered, the future of the College is assured. Its fate rests with you. As you shall speak it, so the service will judge.