THE FATE OF THE DREADNOUGHT
By Lieut. Commander Guysbert B. Vroom, U. S. Navy, and William Oliver Stevens
The war that has shaken so many things loose and toppled down so many venerable standards has now jolted the very foundations of our naval beliefs. On account of the naval history of that war there come now on all sides attacks on what has been since naval history began, the backbone of sea-power, the line of battleship; and these attacks are launched by men whose names carry great weight. Only recently Admiral Daveluy of the French service announced that the dreadnought "has lived." At the same time Admiral Beatty was reported to have said that "the ship of the future is the submersible battle cruiser," and that while battleships will not be superseded they "will be relegated to second place." As coming from the new First Sea Lord, the announcement suggests a revolutionary change of policy in the British Navy. A similar opinion is reflected in the "Memories" of Admiral Fisher. While he chuckles over the success of the dreadnought (which he invented) as an instrument for putting von Tirpitz's nose out of joint, he asserts that the heavily armored battleship, as designed to-day, "will be obsolete in five years." "Speed," he declares, "is the equivalent of armor." From our own navy came a newspaper article by a rear admiral, arguing that the dreadnought was doomed because of its inadequate protection, above against the plunging fire of long range guns and aircraft bombs, and below against mines and torpedoes. Finally, Sir Percy Scott has recently published his opinion in favor of building small craft instead of battleships.
It was not long ago that the California was launched at the Mare Island Yard, and on the same day the keel of the Montana was laid. Our building program calls for more dreadnoughts whose plans have not even been drawn. But if the opinion of these authorities is to be accepted it is high time that we stopped spending from 20 to 30 millions for each one of these useless machines and devoted the money to better purpose. Can it be true that our navy is lagging behind the times in an hour of momentous change?
It is indeed true that there has been in our service, as in every other, much hard-shelled conservatism. In the early days generations of officers came and went without witnessing one significant change. Nelson's flagship, the Victory, which was launched in 1765, was the pride of the fleet at Trafalgar in 1805 and would have been just as serviceable if Trafalgar had been fought in 1835. It was naturally difficult for the officers of the old school to accept steam, rifled guns, torpedoes and armor, and they did so only with the greatest reluctance. But in this day one expects a ship to drop somewhat behind the times between blueprint and launching. Sensitiveness to the last word in naval development, therefore, is, as it should be, the very breath of the modern officer's nostrils. It is a curious fact that to-day these older officers, whom one would naturally expect to be conservative, are the ones who are calling for the revolution, while the majority of the younger officers at least are inclined to doubt. It is not conservatism that holds back these men who are fresh from chasing U-boats around the coasts of Ireland, but a desire to be "shown." They listen with respect to the opinion of these elders but they recognize no authority but facts.
Drawing "lessons from the war" is a game in which even the experts may go wrong. After the Civil War, for example, experts drew their lessons the world over and navies went through a period of building rams and monitors even though during the Civil War the monitor showed herself slow and unseaworthy and the rifled gun made ramming tactics exceedingly dangerous to the ship that tried them. Again, after the battle of the Yalu the success of the Japanese armored cruisers led the experts to boom this type now obsolete, although the real lesson was the ability of the Chinese battleships to stand terrible pounding and stay afloat. At this time drawing the right naval conclusions is imperative because it involves our national first line of defense. The American Navy is perfectly willing to paste the address of the junk man on every one of its battleships, if necessary, but it inclines to look sharply before it makes any extensive leap.
Let us consider first the new type suggested by the British, the "submersible battle cruiser." At the outset it is important to make a distinction between the pure submarine and the submersible. Everyone knows what a submarine is, but it is worth noting that it has a low speed and must depend on stealth to reach its position. The submersible is a vessel designed to operate on the surface at a relatively high speed and to submerge only when it has reached a favorable position for torpedo attack. Certain types of submersibles were produced during the war. For instance, the British developed behind a thick veil of secrecy, submersible monitors mounting 12-inch guns, the details of which are still hazy to the outsider. Now a submersible battle cruiser would have to be a ship mounting heavy guns, well furnished with torpedo tubes and encumbered with little or no armor because while on the surface she would lie awash, or nearly so, and would not need it. Further, the absence of armor would be an important consideration in the attainment of speed and wide cruising radius. Undoubtedly such a vessel would have important advantages. While on the surface, it would present a poor target to the enemy, it would theoretically, have a respectable surface speed and ability to keep the sea, and it could be able to deliver heavy blows with its great guns. It could also disappear beneath the sea and attack surface ships with the weapon and the tactics of the submarine. In co-operation with a surface fleet, it is easy to imagine such a vessel acting as a destroyer, making and repelling torpedo attacks and carrying out screening operations. It would be better than the destroyer in its vastly superior armament and in its power to submerge. In short such a type, if successfully developed, would combine the hard hitting power and the cruising radius of the battleship, united with the small exposure and submerging power of the submarine. Apparently this is what the British admirals have in mind, and if it can be made practicable it may indeed be the ship of the future.
At present, however, this type must overcome formidable obstacles before it can be called practicable. In the first place the anti-submarine devices that proved fatal to the U-boat in the last war would be even more fatal to a submersible battle cruiser. Granting that it took a large force of destroyers and aircraft to defeat a comparatively small number of submarines, the fact remains, nevertheless, that a large equipment of anti-submarine devices were developed late in the war which go far to curtail submarine activity in the future. All these would be effective against the submersible. If operating by day, seeking to deliver a torpedo attack under water, it would have small chance of escaping detection by aircraft, destroyers and listening devices. It is easy to imagine such a vessel hounded to the death, from the moment it left the shelter of its own fleet, by a swarm of destroyers, "blimps" and planes. Escape for a huge submersible by diving would be impossible because on account of the difficulties of hull construction, which would involve much technical discussion to go into, it could not make way at a great depth as a submarine can, and it could only hope to lie on the bottom in comparatively shallow water until pursuit slackened. In that case, betrayed by escaping bubbles or oil, it would have to reckon with the depth bomb and explosive drag, with small chance of escape. Further, the development of listening gear has attained such a point that the big submersible could be heard and located accurately long before it could strike. To succeed then, this submersible must find means of defence against devices which proved fatal to the submarine and to which it would be even more sensitive than the submarine.
Another great difficulty, a mechanical one, has to do with propulsion. This has been one of the greatest handicaps in the progress of the submarine. The earlier types depended on gasoline engines and storage batteries, the former for surface and the latter for underwater propulsion. While the submarine was on the surface the gasoline engine served to charge the battery as well as to drive the screws. Both sources of power were very unsatisfactory because of the fumes from the gasoline engine and the hydrogen or chlorine gases from the batteries. In recent years the acid battery has been displaced by the alkaline type and the gasoline engine by the heavy oil. These lessened the dangers to the crew, but they effected no material mechanical improvement. There still remain the excessive weight and general unreliability that accompany all internal combustion engines.
Now a "battle cruiser" to-day—the Renown, for instance—means a ship of some 30,000 tons displacement, requiring about 100,000 horsepower to drive it at 30 knots. Suppose for the moment all the enormous difficulties of hull construction for a submersible of this size were overcome, the dead weight of internal combustion engines required to deliver anything approaching this power would be absolutely prohibitive. Even then, of course, the submersible could not make a rate of speed comparable with that of the surface cruiser with the same engine power because the greater part of its hull would be under water. Whatever improvements may develop in driving power would always keep the surface craft much faster than the submersible, and speed in naval tactics is a factor that is paramount. Indeed, it was the low speed of the submarine in the last war that made it helpless to attack swift moving surface ships and rendered it a prey to the destroyer.
Experiments have been made to utilize steam for submersibles on the surface. The French Navy used it for their submarines without success for they found that it delayed their submerging. The English, however, have continued the experiment by building a submarine propelled by steam on the surface which can make a surface speed of 24 knots. But this boat is of limited cruising radius, and cannot stay submerged long because of the need of coming up to recharge batteries. If the submersible was steam-driven on the surface, that would have to be its sole motive power, because a ship of that size could have only one set of engines; what is most needed is an invention that will adapt steam to underwater propulsion, where any submersible type is still hopelessly slow. In brief, compared with surface ships the submersible is still at a heavy disadvantage in relation to speed and always will be so as long as water is harder to push out of the way than air. And compared with the pure submarine, the submersible would be much slower under water because of its top hamper and heavy guns and gun mountings.
Let us suppose that the submersible battle cruiser had managed to apply steam to underwater travel. What of its hitting power? Would it depend chiefly on its big guns or its torpedoes and how would it compare with a surface ship of equal armament? If it depends mainly on its guns it would labor under a serious handicap compared with the surface ship. In these days gunnery is almost an exact science and the target is found as the resultant of mathematical data. The surface ship with its high range-finding platforms and tops would be able to fire a ranging salvo and its spotters would be "on" before the submersible could get its guns into action at all. Under present day conditions, at least, all the advantages in controlling and coordinating big gun fire—the very essence of surface fighting—lie overwhelmingly with the surface type. As for the underwater weapon, the torpedo, it has unquestionably developed greatly in the last decade. Under specially favorable circumstances (as in the twilight and mist of the battle of Jutland) it may have a highly important effect on the outcome of a fleet action. But the torpedo is not yet an instrument of precision. It is still only a secondary weapon because it requires that the firing vessel shall be able to maneuver into a favorable position and obtain precise mathematical data by observation. The uncertainty of any one of many essential factors makes the shot a hit or miss affair. If the submersible tried to reach its position for attack under water it would have to trust entirely to luck to get a hit, because it would be so slow in comparison with surface ships. Submarines were never able to hit the swift-moving vessels in any naval action in the North Sea. If it tried to operate on the surface as a destroyer, it would lack the destroyer's speed and flexibility.
So far, we have considered only the problem of a submersible battle cruiser in conflict with surface types. Of course a fight under water between two submersibles is exactly like a fight between two men in a dark room. A conflict under water that was not mere blind man's buff would depend on submarine radio direction finders, possibly assisted by aircraft. But these agencies are not yet developed to any such degree that they can be depended on for much practical value. Air craft, especially, depend on bases and cannot be expected to operate far from land or from a "mother" ship.
In sum, this submersible battle cruiser of the future must combine all the virtues of the dreadnought and the pure submarine without assuming faults that outweigh them. At present the handicaps of the proposed type seem to preponderate heavily. The fact is that this is a hybrid, a compromise type, trying to be both surface ship and submarine. In naval history, compromise types have never proved successful, and this promises to be far less so. Even Lord Fisher, who regards the dreadnought as "obsolete in five years," pins no great faith on an underwater type to take its place. "Wireless," he says, "is the weapon of the strong. So is the submarine—that is, if they are sufficiently developed and diversified and properly applied, but you must have multiplicity of species." In other words, he regards the submersible types as only auxiliary to the command of the sea.
So much for the "ship of the future." Not all the authorities quoted at the opening of this article are in favor of the "submersible battle cruiser," but all are agreed on the decline and fall of the dreadnought. The line of battleship, which in one form or another has been the naval unit since the days of the Minoan kings, is pronounced dead, and apparently in the British Navy arrangements are being made for the funeral. But perhaps it is yet possible to maintain of the passing of the dreadnought, as Mark Twain did about the report of his own death, that it is "greatly exaggerated."
What is the matter with the battleship? Rear Admiral Daveluy writes that "she has lived," because of these conditions in the war: she was forced by the submarine to keep mainly within defended harbors, and to take the sea with circumspection, guarded by destroyers and other light craft; she was unable to give safe conduct to merchantmen; and, finally, she was vulnerable to mine and torpedo. To these objections the American admiral adds the arguments, already noted, concerning her vulnerability to mine and torpedo underneath the surface, and to aerial attack and plunging fife above.
On the other hand, the evidence of the war seems to prove overwhelmingly that the ship of the line has remained mistress of the sea. Several, it is true, were lost by mines, and a very few by submarines, but the vast majority of the ships kept afloat and thereby held the control of the sea for the Allies. It was the difference in strength between the battleship force of Great Britain and Germany—a difference that neither mine nor torpedo was able to affect—which gave the highway of the sea to the Allied cause and closed it to the German. Although the dreadnought herself was not adapted to combat the new peril of the submarine, it was the supporting power behind the destroyers that did combat it. These smaller, unprotected vessels were enabled to range the sea in pursuit of their quarry because of the protection of the Grand Fleet. The fact that this fleet spent most of its time at Scapa Flow does not mean that it was impotent. Even if there had been no submarine menace these dreadnoughts would have remained at their base most of the time watching an enemy that had to choose between inaction and accepting battle under unfavorable conditions.
It must be remembered that the war was fought under peculiar circumstances. The maritime theatre of action was largely restricted to the North Sea, a body of water small in area and shallow in depth. The fleet that commanded the sea would naturally remain most of the time in the security of its base. Submarines were unable to prevent that fleet from taking the sea for its periodical sweeps and for target practice at will. As for mines, it must be remembered that the open ocean is not susceptible of being mined as was the North Sea. In the case of adversaries separated by a whole ocean, who shall say that the battleship would be antiquated and useless? The Germans bent every energy to the task of intercepting troop convoys from this country, but all their mines and submarines availed nothing. If this was true of large groups of ships gathered haphazard and manned often by inexperienced officers, the protection of a battleship force from the submarine menace by its own screening flotillas need hardly be regarded as beyond hope!
It is worth remembering that in the Battle of Jutland not one dreadnought on either side was sunk. And after the battle of Dogger Bank it was possible to tow the disabled battle cruiser Lion back to port, in the face of enemy submarines, because of the effectiveness of the destroyer screen.
The argument about bombs and plunging fire depends upon the assumption that it is not feasible to protect the battleship in that quarter as well as against direct fire. Moreover the "danger area" at the long ranges involving plunging fire is extremely small; the fleet that does the best shooting and has the most powerful guns will have that advantage, as it would have in any case. Under water, it is true, the battleship is unprotected, but as in the case of deck protection, the solution would seem to be not the discarding of the type, but the adaption of construction to cover that weakness. This has always been the story of the battleship from time immemorial; new conditions have made alterations, but the battleship has remained. Certainly the protection of the dreadnought offers no such mechanical and engineering difficulties as are confronted in the proposed "submersible battle cruiser." For instance, the "blisters" on the hulls of certain British ships, notably their monitors, proved a defence against torpedoes during the war; and the "cellular" construction of the hull of a battleship like the Maryland should localize the effect of any underwater explosion.
Some of the recent discussion on this subject has centered on the possibility of attacks on battleships by air craft controlling torpedoes by radio. But at present the stage reached in this form of tactics seems hardly far enough advanced to justify scrapping the battleship. The dependence of air craft on shore or on mother ships, the accuracy of control required for the success of such attacks from a safe height, and other elements in the problem, leave this form of tactics still in the experimental stage.
What, after all, does the dreadnought stand for? It is a combination of the great essentials of a naval unit—speed, protection, ability to keep the sea, and a maximum of hitting power. Nothing that the war developed has upset any of these prime factors; nothing that has been suggested to take its place offers any equivalent for this combination. Of course the phrase "ship of the future" may mean anything. The discussion here has centered on the immediate future—say the next five years at least. At any time an invention may come along that will upset all previous calculations, and he would be rash indeed who would venture to predict anything definite without great circumspection. Of the distant future it seems likely that the navy may leave the seas for the oceans of the air. Already the air has become an invaluable extension of the sea. But that day is likely to be beyond the vision of this generation. As long, however, as ships sail the surface of the waters, so long will the unchanging elements stand. Cruising radius, the ability to stand punishment, accuracy and weight of gun fire, the concentration of great offensive power on one keel—all these things count now as they always have counted, as the things to he desired of the units of the fleet. Under changing forms and in changing proportion these things in the past have been represented by the ship of the line, or as we call it to-day, the dreadnought. The burden of proof therefore rests heavily on those who would say that this type "has lived."