After reading an essay appearing in the March number of the INSTITUTE on the "Reorganization of the Naval Establishment," by Pay Inspector J. A. Mudd, an essay full of excellent matter and well-thought ideas and suggestions, though perhaps expressed rather too much in metaphor, and with illustrations on serious subjects somewhat too flippant—witness especially sections XII and XV—I feel constrained as a would-be "reorganizer"—in a modest kind of way—to lift up my feeble voice in protest against what is really the crux of the essayist's argument, though, perhaps, he himself would not so express it.
With the fundamental principle enunciated at the beginning of the essay, "The industrial and commercial part of the naval establishment is the auxiliary of nothing; it is a main part," I am entirely in accord, as with the general argument for making haste slowly in changing a general organization that has stood more or less well the test of time—but without ever having had the strain put upon it that a war with a modern naval power would bring. Neither do I, nor, I think, other serious would-be reformers, believe in revolution; nor do we shout with the "mob." We are generally more or less silent, sensible people, who make very little noise in the world, who have spent a greater or less number of years in the diligent study of naval warfare and its history, endeavoring by study and sober forethought to prepare for the emergencies we may have to meet on the field of battle, when the honor, or may be the life, of the country will be in our hands, not to mention such small matters as our own personal lives and honors and those of the sea-army under us. Reorganizers of this class wish neither to "revolutionize" the establishment—which would be an impracticable, visionary dream with our form of government—nor to "own" it or our brothers of the "industrial and commercial part of the naval establishment." We have studied war and history, which is our business, in an honest and earnest endeavor to learn from the campaigns and battles of the past what it was that lead to success, in order to be prepared, should our time come to lead the fleets of the country in war, to uphold its honor and glory. We have studied more or less earnestly the systems of other navies that have met with success in the shock of war, and those that have met with defeat, in order to extract from each its lesson.
In these studies we have learned—or believe we have learned—that, other things being even approximately equal, success invariably attends that side which is best prepared; and that preparation means not only the building and fitting of ships—that is the lesser element—but the organizing of the material at hand, both ships and men, into a fighting force with definite plans and aims. This latter is the greater element, and has been the key to success from Salamis to Tsushima; and in the organization of our naval establishment the means for accomplishing it had formerly no place, and only in very recent years has it appeared in an embryonic and scarcely recognized state, to meet with the almost united resistance of both Congress and our brothers of the staff, joined by many of the line itself, whenever it shows its infant head.
It is here that I and other would-be reformers of the same class take issue with the brilliant essayist. We do not believe that because, "The navy is over a hundred years old," we need not adopt the "big things" which have demonstrated their success in the conduct of naval campaigns and the shock of battles such as our navy has never known. We believe in adopting, or "copying," anything big or little that leads to success or the glory of the country. We have never conducted a naval campaign in the true sense of the word, for we have never had fleet opposed to fleet. We executed some brilliant ship combats in the wars of the Revolution and 1812—many pirates have done the same—we blockaded the southern coast and bombarded forts in the war of the Rebellion—the Confederates had no navy—and we demolished the so-called navy of poor, old, decrepit Spain in 1898. In each of these latter wars few honest students of history can find anything creditable in their plan and conduct during their earlier days, and their success may be credited far more to the weakness of the adversary than to brilliancy on our part. Can it seriously be argued that these almost unopposed successes demonstrate the perfection of the system under which they were fought? And because we were successful then everything is perfect in our organization now?
Let us use our imagination for a moment, and transpose 1861 and 1898 to 1909, and in place of the navyless Confederacy let us place, say, Germany with its modern, well-equipped navy about equal to our own, and with their splendidly organized and informed general staff with plans complete and well matured afore-hand; or, in place of decrepit Spain, let us place, say, Japan with a somewhat smaller, but perfectly organized and war-seasoned navy, and with a general staff, not exceeded in excellence and perfection by that even of Germany—who have had sense and foresight to "copy" from all services all things big and little that were good and could be applied to their uses. Would the results be the same? Prophesying is an unprofitable business, and the answer may be left to the imagination invoked. I may be allowed to state my own personal convictions, however, in the cases supposed: these are that, under present conditions, in the beginnings of such wars we would meet with defeat and humiliation, and it would only be by the expenditure of untold treasure and human life that we would attain ultimate victory.
Therefore, my brethren of the other side, do not let us sneer at things that are new, for the world is progressing always. Because a system was good a hundred years ago with the weapons and methods of that age, is hardly an argument for its use at the present day; for fighting machines, both material and human, unlike old wine, do not improve with age. If we wish to keep to the forefront—and to insure our future peace, and freedom from calamity if that fails, we must keep there in matters naval—we should invent, take, "copy" or in any other way appropriate to our own use any system, plan or invention that leads to the "best use of the navy as a fighting force.
We would-be reorganizers of a certain school have very modest and reasonable designs against departmental organization as a whole, and none against that large and important branch of it which the essayist calls the "industrial and commercial part of the naval establishment." We recognize “their place," in their place, as one of primary importance, and as a "main part." We are seeking neither to belittle them nor humiliate them, and have not the remotest dream of a desire to treat them "as dross," or "ride rough shod over human beings," and we recognize them as being "American citizens of the finest caliber," and as coequal brother officers. Neither have we any desire "to 'own' the whole of the naval establishment," nor to build a Chinese wall about the person of the Secretary of the Navy wherein he may loll away his official existence.
Our one small and modest desire is to advance the efficiency of the navy, and make of it the perfect fighting machine the country's expenditures call for, ready and prepared at all times to meet any emergency, and in this work we invite the co-operation of all officers of the service, irrespective of corps and rank.
We of the line at sea are the people who use the tools prepared by the "industrial and commercial part of the naval establishment," and are the people to whom the country gives praise or blame for success or failure, and who sink or swim in battle as our tools are bad or good and ill or well handled. To us is supposed to be given the actual conduct of war, and its study is our peculiar province. In this study, we have seen the English floundering around to success for several centuries in warfare on the sea in a groping kind of way that they seem to have hardly understood themselves; but which when sifted down to facts is seen to have been the result of selecting brilliant men with proper assistants from the best their service afforded, who organized and planned campaigns, and directed the naval policy of the country. This group they called the "Admiralty," and was the first inchoate example of what in later times is called a general staff, to which the Admiralty has more and more approached as its meaning has become better and better understood by themselves.
We have seen the French during the same period, following a line—not dissimilar to our own during the past century, and up to the present time—of lack of system and continuity, without preconceived plan or definite aim, acting at the moment as individual or expediency dictated, and—often even with superior force on their side—almost universally defeated. We have seen even as late as 1871, when, without aim or proper direction, their vastly superior navy was a practical nullity in the war, and saw their country's defeat and humiliation without being capable of making a return blow. Handicapped as they are by their peculiar temperament and form of government, the French, themselves, have seen the errors of their ways, and during these later years have fallen into line with the other progressive nations, and are taking of their best to form a directive staff.
We have seen the German with his methodical mind, learning in humiliation the lessons of defeat, and slowly and methodically building up through the agency of their brightest military minds, under the direction of the great creative mind of Von Moltke, the originator of modern general staffs, that most perfect military engine the world had yet seen, the German Army, which first overthrew the Austrians in the six-weeks campaign of '66, and later the French in '71. We have seen the same method applied by the same people to the creating, building, equipping and organizing of a navy, and we have seen this navy come into being from nothing in a few years, till it is now one of the recognized world forces.
We have seen the Japanese, adopting the same methods, and borrowing the best there was for their own use from English, German or American, through the agency of a staff founded generally on the German system, with their brightest minds planning and directing at home, and collecting and adopting abroad, form within ten years the engine of war that overthrew the mighty power of Russia in the East. This last we have found especially instructive, for no war was ever carried on before of such magnitude both on land and sea, and so successfully, with such disproportionate means. And the meaning of it all was complete, thorough and perfect preparation and planning beforehand, carried on by, perhaps, the most perfect military and naval staffs the world has ever seen. I do not detract from the renown and credit of Togo and the admirals and Oyama and the marshals and generals who carried the plans into execution, by stating that, that is what they did—they carried the plans of the staffs they had themselves helped form into execution, step by step, as planned, as Von Moltke did in 1871.
These, my brothers, are some of the lessons we would-be reformers have learned of the progress of the world in the art of war. We see that should war come we will be pitted not against a navyless Confederacy, or a decrepit Spain, but against the powers of the world who think and plan; who make the best use of the best intelligences the good Lord sends their services, by planning for all eventualities, acting sometimes on a general staff advising as to policies, looking into the future and maturing plans for war, advising as to faults that use discovers in the tools provided by "the industrial and commercial part," and charged with the general preparedness for war and the direction of the fleet in being and all that pertains thereto; and then, that touch may not be lost with the active service, or familiarity with the use of the tools of war, they return to their respective services on land or sea.
To meet this thorough organization, definite policy, and ceaseless planning of our possible enemies in war, what have we in our naval organization? We have a general board of insufficient membership and precarious tenure, a war college without practical staff, an insufficient office of naval intelligence supported by four attachés scattered over the face of the earth, and the overworked chief of bureau of navigation. Do you think, my brothers, such archaic means are sufficient to meet the thorough organization of our prospective adversaries? I do not. And yet whenever there is a whisper of a general staff, so loudly called for by the teachings of the times, to advise the Secretary in matters of military need, naval policy, correction of proven faults in material, and bear with him the responsibility of having the "fleet in being" prepared and planned for war at all times—which is now everybody's business, and therefore nobody's—we hear the wail of Chinese walls, desires to own the earth, the trampling of rights, and what not!
Believe me, some of us would-be reformers are looking for nothing personal, and expect nothing from the reforms we advocate but the general good that would accrue to the service and the country. We see—or think we see—a grave danger to the country should a serious war occur under existing conditions; and we see—or think we see—the remedy from our study of war and history. This remedy we believe to be the institution of a proper general staff in the personnel branch of the departmental organization, a remedy that has so signally proved itself in every leading military and naval organization of modern times. We are not looking to smite the other branches of the service, which are in fact just as important and necessary in their way. So why should our friends of the staff cry out in alarm when they are not hurt, and raise the flag of opposition when any mention even is made of any proposal to increase the military efficiency of the fleet? In fact, any properly organized general staff should have on it representations from all the corps who have to do with the building and maintenance of the fleet, surgeons, paymasters, constructors and marines. So why the eternal wail? Is it that the general non-military duties of the offices performed overcome the military associations of the professions of the officers of all corps in the navy to such an extent that it blinds them to vital military necessities? Let us hope not, and forget for a while that we belong to this corps or that; but are all officers of the navy, necessary in our several capacities. You, the essayist, forget for a while that you may be Pay Director Smith, let him forget for a while that he may be Naval Constructor Jones, and I will forget for a while that I am Commander Robinson; and then let us be plain Smith, Jones and Robinson, three officers of the navy, who owe to it and the country our best efforts; and then get down to brass tacks and work together for the "best" good of the whole service, whether we think our slice of reward from the national pie counter is of the largest or not. Personally, I have never sought for pie, nor looked for a surfeit of that delicacy as a reward for advocating measures—and have not been disappointed.