Even in the homeland of my Southern ancestors, there is now general agreement that the North won the War between the States. But that universal acceptance of what had long been regarded in many quarters as a debatable issue, is a comparatively recent development. Its realization required the ministrations of Time. And, although the identity of the victor is now generally recognized, it does not follow that all issues of fact concerning the great conflict have been resolved. Disinterested research workers are still seeking reliable data on certain operations of the conflict. Much of it never will be found.
Nor is such a result one which should cause surprise. War is a dynamic affair. Men see situations, and move promptly to meet them. As often as not, the factors governing a field commander’s decision are recorded only in the minds of those who participated in the formulation of his plans. Frequently, the order which sets in motion impressive forces is a verbal one or, in the case of naval war, a flag hoist whose sole durable record is in the signal logs of a couple of ships which may later be sunk, taking their signal logs with them.
There is reason to believe, however, that the history of our Navy’s part in the present global conflict may escape the concealing cloak of obscurity which all too often in the past has made it difficult for students to follow the events of war. Not only is there a greater number of active agencies provided for the collection of information at its source, but also the Department is even now engaged in writing a narrative history of the war at sea, for release in the near future. Much necessarily must be omitted from this history in the interests of security. But it will serve as a chronological guide to investigators seeking the more complete and official information which later will be made available.
Perhaps the most striking innovation of the Navy’s history program is this as yet untitled history of operations at sea now being written. It is frankly a document designed for popular consumption—a readable record of the exciting and vital work of our Fleet beginning with that grim December 7 of 1941. The books—there are to be several volumes—will in the main be a recital of the facts as completely as they can be revealed, with enough background material to let the reader understand some of the many logistic and policy considerations which were among the motivating forces of the events that occurred.
These books will be available to the public very shortly. In a very real sense, they are one element in the Navy’s public relations policy, for they are designed to bring the American people up to date on the events of the war. They will give the reader a more complete picture of what happened than could have been published at the time of the incidents which they relate; and, by presenting these events in a cohesive pattern, allow the interested citizen to enjoy a more complete appreciation of the difficulties which our hard-fighting sailormen have so gloriously overcome.
For the Navy, this is particularly important. All too often, as we in the service so well know, considerations of security have made it impossible for our spot communiques adequately to “cover the story” of a major engagement. In contrast with operations ashore, where opposing forces arc for the most part in immediate contact with each other, naval operations depend on what is done before contact is established as well as after it has been broken off. A land enemy can formulate almost constant estimates of the strength of the opponent immediately confronting him; can inform himself immediately with considerable accuracy of the extent of the enemy’s losses in any given engagement. A naval battle, on the other hand, may well end with neither side certain of the damage the other has suffered. A ship that is hit and burning may sink. It may, under cover of weather and screened by friendly reinforcements, manage to get home. Unless the opponent knows with certainty that the ship has gone down, he must thereafter base his plans on the assumption that that enemy unit will be repaired and restored to service.
As a result of this known uncertainty concerning an opponent’s losses, and the importance which this uncertainty plays in future plans, neither commander can afford to rush into print with accurate revelations of what he has suffered. Nor can he reveal, through claimed specific sinkings, his own assumptions of the enemy’s revised potential strength. It is natural, therefore, that the daily press should be filled with long and detailed stories of land engagements while at the same time they carry only some brief communiqu6 concerning sea battles that history will later recognize as crucial in the outcome of the struggle.
Our Navy has long been particularly willing to release at the very earliest moment consistent with security the extent of our losses and our estimates of those suffered by the enemy. But because of the necessarily long time lapse between the happening of the event and the release of the information, readers of the press can seldom bridge the gap to form in their own mind a true picture of the importance of a given sea engagement. “The Navy Department today revealed that two months ago’’ has an element of staleness which makes it difficult for Navy news to compete with the “spot coverage” possible in Army activities, both on the ground and in the air.
This weakness in our public relations position will no doubt be largely corrected when the new popular history is placed on sale. For the first time, Americans back home will get the story, the complete story arranged in orderly fashion, of what has gone on beyond the gaze of shore-side press reporters and radio commentators. It may be assumed that, thus informed and initiated, the public may in the future give more appreciation to our necessarily limited communiques. Between the lines of a cold recital of bare facts under a Washington date line, they will be able to read the untold story of brilliant planning and heroic execution that makes for a naval victory.
In making its case to the citizens of the nation which it has so ably defended, the Navy has ever been able to stand on the record. But, unfortunately, when that record is too long in coming to light, impressions formed in the public mind by a combination of scanty or belated information and the ever ripening crop of evil rumors which absence of information breeds may too indelibly have been inscribed to be eradicated. A people enjoying a return to peace is not likely to sit down for a cold evaluation of the performance of a given branch of the armed forces in a conflict of which all hands are weary. So, although the post-war revelation of the Navy’s work will make an inspiring story of ability, courage, and devotion to anyone who will read it, we must recognize that the Navy’s worth is being lastingly evaluated in the minds of most people now. This mass evaluation is not likely to be materially affected by what comes to light after the conflict has ended.
Of greater importance, from the standpoint of ultimate utility by serious students and investigators, is the program of compilation of historical material being conducted by many Navy agencies. Indications are clear that when this war is over, research men will not be confronted with the depressing lack of catalogued documents which has made study of past conflicts so difficult.
Into the Office of Records and Library, headed by scholarly and Navy-wise Captain Dudley W. Knox, there flows a constant stream of action reports, operations orders, and a host of other official documents in which the story of the war may be found. With the memory of what travail was involved in trying to rouse out the elusive documentary record of the Quasi-War with France and the War with the Barbary Pirates which his office has published in series of old naval documents, one may be assured that Captain Knox is enjoying to the full the opportunity to gather accurate data on this current struggle, and to have it in such shape that its value may be exploited to full extent by interested research workers. I recall when, as Flag Secretary of a task force afloat, I sent copies of our war diary to the Office of Records and Library, and had a feeling that that was some small repayment for the arduous work which his limited staff had performed in making available the volumes of old naval documents.
In addition to the work of the Office of Records and Library in collecting and sorting documents relating to the war, there are other activities strengthening our position on the history front. Naval Operations and a number of the Bureaus have detailed men of special talent and training in the field of historical investigation to prepare documented records not only of operations but of the administrative activities which supported the work of our combatant units.
Adding to the wealth of material which will be available to the future investigator are the accounts written by the combat correspondents of the Marine Corps. And it goes without saying that, pictorially, this will have been the most thoroughly covered war in all history. Press cameramen, newsreel men, and the photographers of the Navy and Marine combatant units are creating an unprecedented collection of film-recorded history in the making. Many a heroic life has paid the cost of this priceless record.
It would seem, then, that the possibility of having available an accurate picture of what has taken place in the current struggle is appreciably brighter than was the case in wars of the past. But that does not mean that a full and complete story will be available. There are weaknesses in the chain. Certain of them are the inevitable results of human fallibility. Others are caused by administrative regulations, which could, it is submitted, be changed in the interests of an accurate record without involving peril to security.
The disadvantages resulting from the human factor are perhaps no greater in this war than in any other. But we must foresee that the historian will be plagued with them, and, as a result, his reader suffer the same difficulty. As has been pointed out, the collection of action reports and similar documents is under able administration. They will be available when the proper time comes. But what are action reports? They are the story of what took place as seen by one person, the writer of the report. And that person is an officer whose professional reputation may well be made or ruined by what comes to light concerning that particular action. Must we attribute to our commanders the superhuman quality of accurately estimating their own conduct? May we reasonably assume that one’s own mistakes will appear as prominently as one’s successes in a self- compiled record? Yet, if we are to learn from lessons purchased at the high cost in life which war exacts, it is important that information concerning combats be as accurate as is humanly possible.
It may be contended that in this respect we suffer no greater disability than obtained in past wars. But that is not true. Much of the real story of the War between the States came to light through the medium of letters. Sometimes they were acrimonious exchanges between commanders operating in neighboring theaters. More frequently, they were the confidences which a war-wearied soul poured out to some loved one back home. Of this war, there will be few such revealing documents. An intelligent subordinate may not relieve his exasperation at the apparent stupidity of a senior by letting off steam in a letter. Censorship prevents. A keen-eyed newspaper correspondent witnessing a costly blunder may not put the story on the wire, or even in a feature story released long after the period of secrecy necessary to security has expired. Censorship prevents. Indeed, the system whereby a correspondent must be acceptable to the commander of the area in which he is to work rather effectively screens out the potential author of current critical commentary.
Now that does not mean that critics are forever silenced. When the struggle is over, they may break into print (as they have in the past) with the fury of pent-up rage. But such criticism, long after the event, is of dubious value. Memory is a tricky thing. And a man angered at being “muzzled” for a long time is not the most reliable source of information.
It must also be recognized that certain intelligent critics are forever silenced. Some are killed in action before peace-time restoration of the right to talk has enabled them to get their information on the record.
If we assume that a complete story of what has taken place is a desirable thing (and it would seem hard to support the idea that it is not), then the situation can materially be improved. It would involve neither a substantial relaxation in censorship nor any added peril to security. It would involve only permission for certain persons involved to write and securely to preserve contemporaneous records of what they saw and did.
Some time ago our personnel were forbidden to keep diaries. The considerations motivating that order are evident: Should such a diary fall into the hands of the enemy, it might cause inestimable harm. But some reconsideration might be given to the facts with a view toward intelligent modification of the ban.
As to personnel on shore in advanced areas, it must be conceded that the chances of capture could be considered so real as to justify forbidding them to keep such records. But would it not be practicable to permit personnel ashore in designated “rear areas” to record their observations, under the sole stipulation that they must be deposited with some designated activity in a sealed envelope for safekeeping and eventual return after the conclusion of hostilities? In this way, the day-by-day thoughts and factual observations of a great mass of our personnel would be preserved for future revelation when such storytelling could do no harm.
In similar category, and more valuable from the standpoint of future research, are the potential diaries of personnel on combatant ships. Witnesses and participants in the stirring events upon which the fate of our nation hangs, these men are in a position to set down for our future study detailed data of inestimable value—data which in no other way could be made available to us. Certainly it is aboard ship as nowhere else that we can enforce rules of conduct. Surely a rule that such personal diaries must be deposited for safekeeping could be implemented as effectively as the censorship of letters.
It may be argued that too much store is here being set upon the worth of diaries as historical material; that they arc as apt to reflect prejudice as the more formal reports of designated commanders. True, prejudice may and will flavor what is written. That is a uniform characteristic in the writings of any participant in an event. But would the historian not be in a better position if he could weigh the equally prejudiced accounts of many observers rather than be forced to consider only the account of one or two persons interested in the transaction? A newspaper man covering a major catastrophe does not content himself with giving his readers only the incidents which he witnesses. To these he adds the carefully considered stories of as many other observers as he can obtain. A court would scarcely render a decision after reading only the plaintiff’s brief.
The Navy is making an auspicious beginning toward assuring contemporaneous and future investigators a full and accurate story of its part in the war. It can add to those fact-recording facilities. And it should. This war has cost lives and fortune. The future place of the Navy in the nation’s scheme of things will be governed by the evaluation which the public places upon the record of the Navy’s performance. It is an impressive record. Let’s make it complete.