It is reported that on one occasion the great Napoleon in answering one of his officers, who was attempting to excuse himself for the poor work of his command by claiming that the regiment was poor, replied, "There are no poor regiments, but often poor colonels."
Whether the words are correctly quoted, or whether the great conqueror ever really used them or not is immaterial, and in no way affect the great military truth contained in them. In any given nation, a thousand men taken at random will average up in intelligence, courage and patriotism very much the same. Put this thousand in the hands of a skilful leader, and anything of which human nature is capable may be expected of them. Put the same men under the control of another who may even have equal physical courage, but who is lacking in skill and knowledge of his profession, who is dilatory when he should be prompt or vacillating when he should be firm, and nothing but confusion, failure and defeat can possibly follow. In brief, the meaning of the remark quoted—that as the leaders are, so will the followers be—is a great truth applicable to enterprises of any kind, but more especially to those of a military nature.
In a military or naval service educate and train the leaders— the officers—to what they should be, and all the rest that makes for efficiency and success will follow of itself. Fail to so educate them, and our more enterprising and active rivals—who may some day be our enemies—will outstrip us, with the result that in some war of the future we will meet with a defeat and humiliation hitherto unknown in our annals.
Up to the present time the history of the Navy has been all glory, from the isolated battles of revolutionary days down to the recent somewhat opera-bouffe war with Spain. But our next war—and it will come sooner or later, for man, singly or in nations, is a fighting animal and much the same in all ages—will not be with Spain, and we will be put to a proof that has never before been known. With the constantly increasing battle fleets of the great powers of the world, that war will be on a scale to which anything we have hitherto done, will be as child's play to a battle of giants. The contest will be between fleets of the yet untried battleships of to-day, and the victory will be with the fleet whose officers are best trained and educated in the use and capabilities of the mighty engines of destruction placed in their hands.
Are the officers of the Navy to-day, as a whole, as well trained as they are capable of being? Have the authorities that govern us used the best means and efforts in their power to so train them?
It is the conviction of the writer that each of these two questions must be answered in the negative, and it is to suggest a few things that might be done with great improvement to the service that these remarks are written.
The title given this paper is "The School of the Officer," and that school is the ship in active service. The Naval Academy educates but does not train, and only prepares the young officer for his real school. The training comes afterwards in the true school for officers—the ship, of which the grades are the ship single, the ship in squadron and the battleship in squadron. The work of the Academy while limited is all that it could or should be, and is perhaps, unequalled by any institution of its kind in the world. That work, however, is educational and preparatory only. The making of the officer comes later, and it is there that it would seem that much more might be accomplished than has been heretofore.
Before offering any suggestions as to what changes in our methods might be made with much improvement to present conditions, a few remarks will be made to show why the changes are necessary, and where the present system and those responsible for it would seem to have failed.
There will be found on almost any of our ships in commission to-day, officers—and not always the youngest ones—who if ordered to dock or maneuver their ship in close quarters, would be appalled, and would turn over the responsibility to the captain or executive officer with a sigh of relief. It may also be safely stated that there are few officers in the Navy, of even very moderate lengths of service, who have not at some time in their career seen even the commanding officer turn over the responsibility of handling his ship to a pilot with the same sigh of relief, and this in harbors and channels not especially difficult to navigate. A system that admits of such conditions is surely faulty somewhere, and encouragement should be given to any effort to locate the fault and to remove it.
A study of all the conditions involved in this case shows that the fault lies partly in following a system in which an officer may pass life without ever having been allowed to give the order "starboard" or "port" of his own volition, and partly in a misconception of the relative importance of things on the part of the authorities. So long as the denting of a side-plate on a dockage or the grounding of a ship in a channel way is held by the authorities as something approaching crime, just so long will men made timid by lack of practical experience in youth be yet more timid when called on in mature life to shoulder responsibilities with court-martial hanging over their heads for matters of little true moment. The occasional grounding of a ship—except where manifest ignorance and incompetence are displayed—is a trivial matter, even though the repair bill be large, when compared to the practical experience that would be gained by the men who must handle our ships in war, if they were required and did handle them at any and all times and under all conditions that were not evidently fool-hardy.
It must be remembered that in time of war we cannot trust to pilots on an enemy's coast to relieve our commanding officers, nor are the lives of these latter invulnerable; and at any time in battle those in command may be killed and any officer may be suddenly called on to command, handle and fight his ship. It may be safely stated that men who are shy of land in time of peace, with all aids to navigation down, will hardly approach an enemy's coast, from which all aids have been removed, with very much of that confidence and boldness necessary to successful offensive action; nor will men who have never been trusted to put their ships through the simplest maneuvers unaided be very competent to succeed to command in battle.
Turning now to another side of the same question of want of practical experience in our officers—and the lack of confidence in themselves springing from that want—it is probable that if any one of our commissioned ships were selected at random, and the officers questioned, few of them could tell exactly what the tactical diameter of their ship was, what her advance, if a twin screw, what they would be with the inner screw backed, in what distance their ship could be stopped, whether with their ship another vessel or shoal could be better avoided by backing or turning or both, in what time and what way a man overboard could be quickest picked up, and many other like questions, all of which involve the safety of the vessel and lives of the crew in time of peace, and a knowledge of most of which is of vital importance in time of battle. In other words, the officers of the Navy are not, as a whole, trained to know their ships and their ships' capabilities either as they should or could be.
That this criticism is deserved will probably be substantiated by almost any officer who has witnessed our infrequent squadron maneuvers, and the fault lies not with the officers themselves—for they are individually as excellent as those of any service—but with the system that gives them no opportunity to learn. Not merely to learn such things by numbers, but by actual practical experience. It means little to the man of average mind to say, "this ship's tactical diameter is 650 yards;" but if he is given the opportunity to turn the ship many times himself, that distance will become fixed in his mind by comparison with the length of the ship itself, and he can look at a space and say to himself instructively and instantly, "my ship can or cannot as the case may be—turn there." It is such instantaneous judgments that must be formed in the heat of battle, and on their being correctly formed depends victory or defeat, the maintenance of a battle line or its break, the destruction of an enemy or a friend.
It must be borne in mind always that the Navy is for war and war only, and that war in the future between navies means actions between fleets of battleships; and anything left undone in the training of our officers to be equal to this supreme test is criminal, and can only invite disaster and defeat. That every line officer attached to a ship should know its whole capabilities in every particular is indisputable; that many do not is equally indisputable; that much more might be done in the way of training officers to this particular aid than has hitherto been the custom would seem to be more indisputable still.
If our officers, as a whole, are wanting in this kind of indispensable knowledge and experience—and it must be admitted by any candid critic that they are—to what and to whom must we lay the blame, and how may the fault be remedied?
The answer to the first of this question is difficult to formulate. It involves too many elements of expediency and unforeseen circumstances attending the duty and use of ships. There are other elements in it, however, that it would seem might be answered with some show of reason, and a few remarks will be offered on them.
As to "what" is to bear the blame, it may be said with much truth that the whole present system—or rather lack of system— of training, which rarely permits an officer to handle a ship of any kind until he has attained command rank, and leaves him during the best years of his life to pick up such crumbs of experience as he may, must bear the greater part of the burden. It is true that the war with Spain, and the succeeding naval activity in the Philippines, bringing with them many additional small commands have done much to better conditions, and given to many younger officers opportunities for the gaining of experience with responsibility, whose talents would have otherwise remained sunken below the dead level of routine. But valuable to the service as this has undoubtedly been, its influence has extended to only a comparatively few, and, moreover, as a school for the training of officers for war, this species of training can only be considered primary; and the training should extend on continuously until the highest school is reached and mastered—the handling of battleships in fleets.
No definite answer will be attempted to the second element of the question, as to who is to blame, as no criticism of individuals is intended in these remarks. There are undoubtedly many questions, international, political, or of expediency, constantly arising in the government of naval matters that must be met by the authorities as best they may, and that interfere seriously with the carrying out of any fixed program of training. It is also recognized that there are conditions of service which sometimes render it almost impossible to do all that should be done for the training of officers for war. But aside from all this, it would seem that much more might have been done than has, and that the authorities of the Navy must bear a portion of the blame for existing unsatisfactory conditions.
Given the opportunity, the officers of the Navy have zeal, pride and esprit-de-corps enough to train themselves. But do they have this opportunity and are their zeal, pride and esprit-de-corps encouraged as they should be? Could not all ships in commission at some time in their cruise be required to be maneuvered in all possible ways by all officers on them who may succeed to command, whatever the conditions of service? Does the eliminative of the personal equation by the so frequent changes of officers and personnel conduce to efficiency, and are such frequent changes necessary in so many cases? Could not some system, or approach to a system, be adopted by which the ship, officer and crew would be together long enough to know each other in every particular, even if cruises had to be slightly shortened, and would not such a system tend towards efficiency? Could not officers be alternated in their successive cruises so that they would all, or nearly all, have experience of and be trained in the use of all classes of ships, to the end that an officer who may at any time be called to command a battleship may not have had his whole training in gunboats or cruisers? Could not a more judicious grouping of ships than at present obtains be accomplished for the training of the Navy for war? Is it either economy or policy to scatter our few battleships to work that would be as well or better done by smaller cruisers or gunboats, and thus deprive the service of its highest school for war training—a fleet of battleships?
These are some of the questions that present themselves in any attempt to place the responsibility for the training of the officer not being as complete and thorough as it could and should be. It is beyond the powers of the writer to answer them correctly, and no attempt will be made to do so; but in what follows, in attempting to answer the final part of the original question—how may the fault be remedied?—and in developing his ideas on the general training of officers, some of his opinions bearing on some of them will appear, and are offered for what they may be worth.
As already stated, it is the province of the Naval Academy to educate the young officer in the ordinary sense of the word, and to give him a preliminary training only that fits him for the beginning of his true training as an officer. This last begins when he joins his first ship, and continues for the remainder of his active career. It is to fit him to handle ships, men and guns, and he can and does learn in the only school for sea-officers— the ship. From its beginning the training should be progressive, and it is the province of the Navy Department to provide for that and to group ships in the manner most conducive to the best training for war.
Since the crucial test in wars to come will be the contests between fleets of battleships, the highest end towards which all training should be directed would be to so train our officers that they could handle a fleet of such" ships in action more skillfully, direct and inspire our men better, and use our weapons more quickly and accurately than any possible enemy. These high ends can only be attained by diligent training in fleet and squadron, where not only the actual experience and practice is gained but a healthy rivalry and spirit of emulation is excited in the individual ships that will lead to yet further striving for excellence and superiority. For these reasons it would seem that training for war imperatively demanded that all but the smallest classes of ships be kept in squadrons at all times not absolutely prohibited by the exigencies of the service, and that the battleships be kept in squadron always. The training for battle with these ships is too valuable to admit of its being lost or wasted, nor have we enough of them for detached services that could be as well or better performed by small cruisers or gunboats. With our present number it would seem better practice to keep them all in one group; or two groups, at the most, would seem the greatest number permissible. If it is deemed that our interests in the Philippines and the East generally necessitate our keeping battleships in eastern waters, then the smaller of the two groups should be there; and, if any are there then there should be a full division of four always, for no less number is of use for training and tactical purposes. All the others we could commission should then be formed in one fleet on our own coast to form there the highest training school for war.
In the waters of Europe, in the Pacific and in the Eastern waters should be divisions or squadrons of cruisers according to our needs, that would perform the regular duties of the stations, but come together at regular times, or whenever practicable, for tactical and other exercises. These divisions or squadrons would form the second training school for war.
Attached to all the stations, and in the South American and African waters, should be the number of smaller vessels, gunboats, &c, necessary for the service of the stations. These would form the third or primary training school for war.
Having thus briefly sketched what would appear to be the most rational divisions in the means at hand for the training of officers, the young officer will be again taken up at his first start in the active service, and such suggestions made in regard to his training as appear to utilize to the fullest extent possible both the schools and the natural traits of human nature in the man.
The first and chief need of the officer on leaving the Academy and entering the service is practical experience in the handling of ships and men, and the development of character that comes from the bearing of responsibility and independent thought and action. He has been taught much theory, but, from the necessities of the case, is almost entirely lacking in practice. This he should be given at once, and his training conducted in the manner that he may have the opportunity of acquiring In the easiest and quickest possible way mastery over the two fundamental principles of his profession, the handling of ships and men.
It has been the usual custom to distribute a class of graduates from the Academy among the larger ships in commission for their first regular cruise. For the following reasons, this appears to be manifestly wrong and contrary to the best interests of both the service and the officer. As stated above, his chief need is practical experience in the handling of ships and men. This he will acquire far better and more quickly on a small, than on a large vessel. On the former his duties will be more responsible, as he will be a regular officer of the ship and have to do the duties of one. The number of men he will control will be small, but these he will actually handle. Being and feeling himself an officer of the ship, he will be a person of far more importance and feel his responsibilities far more than if lost in a crowd on a large ship where his duties would be insignificant, and the work of the ship too large and important to be trusted to his inexperience. The art of handling men is learned by a beginner with much greater ease when trusted with a small number than when lost in masses; and for the handling of the ship itself, he would be a cipher in the movements of the large ship, while as a regular officer of the small one, he would quickly learn his part, and soon be entrusted with the ordinary movements, as any other officer. Moreover, from the greater ease of handling small ships as compared with large, he could easily master the one where he would fail on the other, even were he given the opportunity to try. The underlying principles in the two cases, however, are the same, and when he has once fully mastered the handling of the small vessel, he will be competent to undertake the large when the opportunity occurs later.
If these reasons be true—and certainly the experience of the small vessels during the late Spanish War bear them out—there can be no question that the present practice is an error, and the interests of the service would be far better subserved by starting the training of an officer on a gunboat or other small craft; or, in other words, sending him for his first cruise to the primary school for war training in the classification given above. There he would learn definitely the meaning of " starboard" and " port," what a ship might be expected to do with varying positions of helm and motions of screw, the use of springs &c, &c, and many other questions of practical seamanship and the handling of ships that he might cruise for years under present conditions in a large vessel without ever having an opportunity to prove by his own experience. Further, it is unquestionable also that the development of character under the conditions proposed would be far greater than could be acquired in any other way, for the actual doing of things, independent thought, action and responsibility, however small, carry with them a broadening influence that can never be acquired in strict leading strings.
It is true that by this system the officer will become more or less lax in signaling, the principles of tactical maneuvering and the military precision and alertness that come from fleet drills and competitions. But he gains more of the basic fundamental principles of his profession—the handling of ships and men, without which all else is useless—than in any other way possible, and his further training is so directed as to correct the lacks of the first period.
For the next step in the training of the officer, to consistently carry on the work begun in the first and to supplement its lacks, it is suggested that his second cruise be not in what has been classified above as the second school, but in the first or highest school; and that on leaving the small vessel he be sent to a battleship in squadron. The reasons for this departure from the chronological order of importance of the three schools for war training will be readily seen from the remarks that follow.
The training of an efficient naval officer embraces three essential branches; (1) The acquirement of the ability to handle ships, (2) the power to control and inspire men, (3) the knowledge and use of naval weapons of all kinds and the faculty for teaching others to use them quickly and accurately. While training in all three should go hand in hand as far as possible, no single class of ship is fitted to teach them all together thoroughly, and the main efforts in the first training of the officer should be devoted to the first two in which he is most lacking on first entry into active service, since much more of weapons and their uses can be and is taught by theory during the educational period at the Academy. Furthermore, the order of the branches given above is the natural and logical order in which training in them would be taken up, since proficiency in the first two is a prerequisite for the successful application of the third. The ship must first be handled to join in battle and the crew disciplined to be taught to shoot, or the finest individual gunnery practice in the world is useless. The battle once joined, however, the third branch assumes the primary role, and on it more than all other factors depends the issue.
From the necessities of the conditions of the work of small ships—assuming the first training has been in them as recommended—and the limitations of their batteries, training in the third branch will have been more or less sacrificed to the first two for the reasons given above, and will not have progressed as far as desirable on the first cruise. Moreover, the work of small ships being usually detached, and proper fleet and squadron work being impracticable with such vessels any way, the officer will have lost in precision and alertness as previously remarked; and something of a spirit of indifference to the higher value of concerted action will have been engendered in him, a spirit which is the natural outcome of inexperience joined to the observation of the isolated and independent work of the small ship.
To correct this spirit, and teach him by practical experience for all time the absolute necessity for concerted action and the means of attaining it, and to carry forward the third great branch of training in the best school for it, it is proposed to send the officer for his second cruise to the battleship in squadron. Being in squadron always—assuming the ideas here advocated adopted—and having batteries greater and of greater variety than the cruiser, the battleship beyond all question, offers to the officer at this stage of his training a school for instruction in the elements most needed far superior to the cruiser with its mixed work—varying from squadron to general station work and lesser batteries.
Judging from the almost universal practice of former years, there will, no doubt, be founded in the Navy many officers who will advocate sending the young officer to the battleship squadron for training in his first instead of his second cruise. But if the reasons stated in the foregoing pages be fully considered, it would seem that the order of cruises suggested in these remarks is more consonant with sound reason and the object sought. Until an officer has attained some confidence in himself, some experience of ships and men, has the bearing and habits of an officer, and feels himself one, he is too young for fleet work in battleships and is a cipher in their complements. And if he were sent to the battleship squadron fresh from the Academy, not only would half the value of the actual training be lost, but the development of his character, coming from habits of command and the carrying of responsibility in the small vessel, would be much retarded.
These two first cruises with the training gained in them, the order in which they should be made and the reasons therefore, have been dwelt on at some length on account of their supreme importance in the making of the officer. It is in them that his character as an officer is formed, and in them he learns his profession; and as he proves himself there, so is he likely to continue throughout his career.
Training, however, does not stop here, but should continue throughout the officer's active life as a never ceasing striving after excellence and a superiority over our possible enemies, and those who would aspire to lead our fleets in battle must be ardent students in the schools for war training to the end. No fixed rules, however, can be laid down after the first two cruises. The law of these two should be as fixed as that of the Medes and Persians; but after that the exigencies of the service will govern an officer's duty to a great extent, and regular alternation cannot always obtain. Yet it is suggested that, whenever it can be possibly accomplished, the officer should be sent to the cruiser squadrons for his third cruise, where he would gain knowledge of the handling of large vessels of great speed and tactical qualities differing from battleships, and at the same time continue to a great extent the training in fleet and squadron work.
From that time, to the reaching of flag rank, the rule should be to alternate the duties of an officer, as far as the exigencies of the service will permit, among the different classes of ships, bearing always in mind the supreme importance of the battleship fleet, which should be kept officered and manned always.
It must also be borne in mind that for the purposes of training for war, vessels isolated on detached duty are of little value, beyond the training of young officers in their first duties of handling ships and men. For this purpose small vessels are superior to large. Therefore it is reiterated that under all circumstances possible with the duties the Navy is called upon to perform, all ships of larger size should be kept in division and squadron formation.
Further and finally, in all cases and everywhere, whether the ships be large or small, in fleets or single, every officer on them who may succeed to command should know his ship and her capabilities in every particular. This can be accomplished in only one way; let the authorities cease regarding the small mishaps occurring in the acquirement of practical experience as something approaching crime, and require every ship in commission at stated intervals to be maneuvered in all possible ways by every line officer on her. There may result a little extra coal and repair bill in the present, but it may mean the difference between victory or defeat in the future; and it is far better, if we are to make mistakes, to do it in the practices of peace than in the crush of battle.