Paper work has long been the bane of a naval officer’s existence and the subject of continual complaint. During peace time, however, it was usually dismissed with the observation that it gave an officer something to occupy his time, and was just an annoying burden that had to be borne along with fire drills, week-end watches, and the other small inconveniences of life in the Navy. The general assumption was that, with the arrival of war, paper work would be abolished. Now however, we have been at war for some months, and the volume of red tape, far from vanishing or even diminishing, has actually increased. The effect of this increase is to lower the professional ability of officers and to reduce the battle efficiency of ships.
The object of this article is not to carp or criticize or complain, but simply to attempt to present the question as clearly as possible and suggest an answer. The opinions included are not original or new, and merely reflect the views of a great many officers, mostly of junior ranks, as stated in conversations or letters. The unanimous desire is not to reduce work, but to reduce wasted effort, and to divert the energy now expended without visible result into channels more effective and useful.
It is admitted that a certain amount of paper work is necessary and essential, and with red tape of this variety we have no argument. Experience indicates, however, that a great percentage of the clerical activity connected with combatant ships is without relation to the primary mission of those ships, which is to find the enemy and destroy him. For instance, the Bureau of Supplies and Accounts requires an enormous volume of paper work, with the object of conducting the financial affairs of the Navy in a businesslike way. Titles “A,” “B,” and “C,” inventories, custody cards, vouchers, commissary returns, and a hundred odd other forms are still with us, continually demanding attention. We must sign a long succession of pink sheets to draw a monkey wrench, and we have to keep checking and rechecking to see that that monkey wrench stays on board. If it is lost, we must make out half a dozen forms to survey it, and another five or six to draw a replacement, each one with the correct file numbers, type designations, price, etc., entered in the designated manner. This takes time. Not much time, to be sure, but when that one wrench is multiplied by a hundred, and we add in flashlights, fuses, fire extinguishers, and other assorted articles, the time mounts up. The contention is made that there must be some method of keeping tab on supplies, and the story is often told about the ship on the China station that turned up with a wooden anchor at Admiral’s inspection. Taken as a whole, however, first lieutenants are not in the habit of running off to hock shops with such handy little items as hawsers, hoze nozzles, and half-ton trucks. It seems an unnecessary reflection on the honesty of officers to require a piece-bypiece accounting for the thousands of small articles which comprise a ship’s allowance. In the long run, the comparison between the time and effort involved and the reduction in losses accomplished by the Bureau’s accountability system seems ludicrous.
The Bureau of Ships has reduced slightly the reports it requires, but it still demands a long series of involved forms. In peace time the object of the Bureau is to compile statistics on engineering efficiency and to adjudge the relative merits of different installations by their performance in service. This enables them to formulate theories and evolve principles, which they can apply to the creation of a definite science of marine engineering. In wartime the object is, or should be, simply to obtain the opinions of the engineering officers of new vessels on the equipment installed in those vessels, and from these opinions determine how the machinery is working out in practice. This correlation of theory and fact is necessary in order to meet the requirements of service with appropriate designing. It is difficult to see how the submission of hourly r.p.m.’s, temperatures, pressures, etc., by a vessel which has been in commission for ten years can be of service in attaining this objective. The relative values of theoretical knowledge and the practical advantage of time saved should be weighed more carefully.
Most of the reports required by the Bureau of Personnel are not subject to question, but the distribution of mail is definitely faulty. Undoubtedly it would be to the advantage of all officers to read and digest the pamphlets, circulars, and dispatches sent out on various subjects, but the average officer has neither the time nor the ability to absorb the content of the enormous amount of mail he receives. From personal experience it is known that the smallest type vessel in commission in the Navy presents to the commanding officer a daily stack of correspondence about a foot high. Approximately 2 per cent of this mail has a bearing on the vessel in question, and the rest of it ranges from 6-page pamphlets on how to knit a sweater to long letters on the use of battleship type directors. This means that the captain must spend an hour or two reading through the pile, attempting to sort out the wheat from the chaff, after which the bulk of it is carefully placed in the circular file. This distribution of unrelated material includes confidential publications to much the same degree. With the limited space available, a ship may have an allowance including volumes on aircraft carrier doctrine, mining operations, and similar inapplicable subjects. It seems obvious that the distribution of mail is made on the easiest basis. Easiest, that is, for the Bureau of personnel, which finds it much simpler to place “Atlantic Fleet” on a heading than to determine which vessels need to receive the communication at hand.
This is merely a short outline on the salient points in the problem of red tape. Examples could be produced, cases quoted, and statistics cited to show the extent and scope of paper work, but the seagoing officer is fully aware of the situation and needs no proof. The results of the system are not so obvious, but no less real. Service at sea in these times is arduous beyond the conception of those who have not themselves experienced it and is definitely a full time job. It is neither logical nor practicable to require a naval officer to be a combination of scribe, clerk, and certified public accountant, and such requirement can only result in a neglect of his more essential duties. This reduces the professional capability of a regular officer and quite effectively thwarts any attempt by a reserve officer to acquire professional knowledge. The V-7 graduates and the R.O.T.C. men have had, at best, but a cursory acquaintance with naval subjects. Their education is incomplete and they still have to learn, not only the practical aspects of the Navy, but the theoretical basis upon which it operates. This means that they must supplement their duties on board with study of ordnance, of navigation, of engineering, of all the technical complexities of a modern warship. Yet, when they have finished standing their watch, when the ship’s work has been done, and when the word has been passed to secure from general quarters, they must turn to on the quarterly synopsis, or struggle with the complexities of the S & A Manual. For it seems that there is time for keeping the files in order, but not time for acquiring vital knowledge.
Red tape is condemned so continually and unanimously in the service that it is natural to wonder why, with such unanimity of opinion, nothing has been done about it. The reason for this failure to remedy matters is simply that the source of policy in regard to paper work is in Washington, where paper work is the paramount issue. The departmental offices have secretaries and stenographers, big desks and multigraphs, an 8-hour day and a well-oiled machine for routing and disposing of correspondence. There are no mid-watches, no long hours at battle stations, and no problems of maintenance and repair. This does not mean that the Department is not essential and vitally important, nor is it meant to reflect in any way upon its ability and zeal. It simply means that Washington is, figuratively and literally, not in the same boat with those who go to sea. Such being the case, it is only human for the bureaus to forget that ships afloat have neither the time nor the facilities for the paper work required of them.
The problem is not one which it is impossible to solve. In fact, the solution is so apparent that it is hard to understand why it has not been reached long before now. The answer is merely a question of attitude, and that attitude is in turn the result of placing one idea before all others— the idea that the Fleet comes first. Translate that conception into action and the details resolve themselves.
Issue equipment to ships and put it from that time forward entirely in the hands of the commanding officer. Give him the authority to discontinue the use of custody cards, inventories, surveys, nonessential inspections, commissary returns and all the accompanying files and reports. Require engineering reports only from ships in commission less than two years. Distribute mail with strict regard to actual needs and applicability. Check on the general honesty and efficiency of vessels by unscheduled and indiscriminate inspections, so that an idea of the situation as a whole may be gained from a few sample surveys. This requires a confidence in the ability of commanding officers, and increases their responsibilities, but is certainly justified by the exigencies of the situation. There would undoubtedly be an increase in losses of material and a decrease in executive efficiency, but these are relatively unimportant when compared with the incalculable value of time saved and battle efficiency achieved.
In the final analysis, the war will be won or lost by the ships in the battle line. There should be but one purpose in mind, to put those ships into battle in the best material condition possible, with their officers ready and capable and fit to fight. To this end all else must be subordinated, and towards this goal all courses must be laid. Red tape has no place in total war, for its only effect is to bind and hamper the actions of those upon whom it is imposed. There is no single step so apparent, so practical or so necessary as the cutting of this bond of servitude. The Fleet comes first; why not put it first?