This html article is produced from an uncorrected text file through optical character recognition. Prior to 1940 articles all text has been corrected, but from 1940 to the present most still remain uncorrected. Artifacts of the scans are misspellings, out-of-context footnotes and sidebars, and other inconsistencies. Adjacent to each text file is a PDF of the article, which accurately and fully conveys the content as it appeared in the issue. The uncorrected text files have been included to enhance the searchability of our content, on our site and in search engines, for our membership, the research community and media organizations. We are working now to provide clean text files for the entire collection.
This great nation of ours has just come through a war of worldwide involvement; the second world-wide war within the space of a comparatively few years, and one which undoubtedly far transcended any other conflict this earth has ever seen in its magnitude, ferocity, and human suffering. I he lives lost, the lives ruined, the material losses, and the individual and mass misery, resulting from this great holocaust, are almost beyond human calculation or conception, and its dire effects will extend far into the future, to plague many generations to come. Moreover, as we look about us at the mountainous array of wreckage, human, material, and political, that this terrible conflict has left behind, and as we strive to clear some of it away and to rehabilitate a war- devastated world, it would well seem that the outbreak of another such struggle would most certainly send the whole structure of our civilization crashing down into irretrievable ruin.
flhere is no doubt that such a feeling is widespread among our thinking people, and with it is a natural and heartfelt desire for some form of permanent international machinery or procedure that will insure the prevention of future wars and, perhaps, that final world-cataclysm. In this regard, many and varied have been the ideas put forth by their earnest proponents as the best means of achieving that devoutly-wished-for objective ranging from the concept of a huge world- government, ruling over all the nations of the earth, down to even such things, perhaps, as t e adoption of universal vegetarianism. The most practical and definitive solution of the mighty problem has seemed to lie, however, in a formal association of all the world’s nations, which would act as a clearing-house and tribunal for the airing and arbitration or adjudication of all the serious disputes that might arise in the course of international affairs.
Now such an organization actually has been established, and for many months at present has been laboring upon the formidable task to which it was solemnly dedicated.
In the constitution or charter of this association have been embodied the loftiest principles of equity and justice for all the nations and peoples of the earth, and detailed procedures have been set up for handling, by strictly parliamentary or judicial processes, any question which might appear to threaten the cause of peace or provide a casus belli. All nations would stand before the bar as coequals in their claims or aspirations; all issues would be passed upon in the light of pure equity and justice; and every end would be shaped toward one dominant goal
the attainment of permanent world-peace.
Entering the Navy as an aviator in 1917, Captain Sheehan served in Naval Aviation during World .War I. A graduate mechanical engineer, he subsequently served in naval aircraft tenders and in the Bureau of Aeronautics, as well as in cruisers and gunboats on the Asiatic Station. During World War II he served in transports in the Pacific and the Indian Ocean, and later commanded the Lido Beach Naval Training Center. He retired in 1947 after 30 years of active service.
Here, now, was the thing that so many earnest seekers of permanent world-peace long had advocated as the surest and best means of achieving that noble objective. Here, now, were the nations of the earth sitting down around a table, frankly discussing their mutual problems and points of friction.” According to the theory of the thing, this frank and open discussion should result in the prompt easement of every point of international friction, and the prompt and peaceful settlement of every disputed issue since each party concerned would be enabled to see the merits of the other fellow’s case, and therefore would the more readily acquiesce in a just and peaceful disposition of the matter. Selfish national interests would be subordinated to the general good; the
mighty power of moral forces and public opinion would restrain the would-be aggressor; the mighty pen would supplant the rattling saber; and the war-sickened peoples of the earth could look forward to a shining era of peace and freedom.
But, just as in many other fields of human endeavor, there has been apparent somewhat of a discrepancy between the theory and the practice. For this great new tribunal had not long been in existence before it became distressingly obvious that despite all the flamboyant oratory and pious pronouncements, human nature was still human nature; the Old Adam was still present in the hearts of men; and the promised millennium was still somewhere in the dim future. It was a saddening disillusionment to many sincere believers; yet it was not exactly surprising to those of us who remember that previous instance, only a short time ago in years, when a war-sick world rested its hopes for permanent peace in a similar agency, and then found out at a terrible cost how far great nations would sacrifice their national interests for the common good, and, above all, how effective were moral forces in restraining the aspirations of international gangsters.
In striking contrast to the sober spirit of the present world agency’s inception, that previous agency was launched in a veritable blaze of idealistic fervor. We had just gone through what we now call the First World War, and we deemed it a catastrophic experience and hoped such would never be repeated. In fact we voiced the fear, just as we do today, that another such great war would most certainly wreck our civilization. So, when the proposition of a league of the world’s nations, dedicated to the prevention of war and the maintenance of permanent peace, was held up to the world, there was great enthusiasm on every hand; and there poured forth from press and pulpit almost ecstatic commentary upon the wonderful new agency which was to bring these great blessings to suffering humanity. Now, at long last, would the lion lie down with the lamb, our swords be beaten into the proverbial ploughshares, and national armaments become only relics of a barbarous and outmoded concept in human affairs.
Apparently unrealized by most of these
earnest people, however, was the melancholy fact that such an organization or plan was not something entirely new, and was not the first to be proposed and actually attempted in the cause of universal peace. Several times within the past few hundred years, and even well within our own age, had similar plans been formulated. And in these, too, the mighty power of “moral forces” and “public opinion” was to play a leading part, together with such familiar-sounding things as “Freedom of the Press” and “Suppression of Secret Diplomacy.” But, one and all, they had passed into public oblivion; and to most of our people this latest plan was undoubtedly a revolutionary new and wonderworking design in the progress of mankind.
However, the new organization got underway, and, assembled in solemn conclave, the leading statesmen of the world voted and passed resolutions, evolved procedures and “formulas,” appointed world-committees for various purposes, and indulged in floods of high-flown oratory. In hopeful expectancy the war-weary world awaited the promised happy results. In this country, particularly, we were bombarded by enthusiastic speakers, as with shining eyes and teeth they held forth a glowing picture of the era of universal brotherhood that was now at hand. We were fervently assured that now would the lives and liberties of all the peoples of the earth be forever safe behind the moral sword and buckler of the great new organization; and with this we were urged to a future policy of national meekness and impotence.
Scores of high-sounding pronouncements and resolutions of that same tenor poured forth from a variegated assortment of societies, clubs, “Leagues” for this or that, and other such bodies. And on every hand we were assailed with books, pamphlets, newspaper and magazine articles, and tons of other printed matter—all to the same end, and all couched in the same fervid vein. Indeed, many of the earnest advocates in their enthusiasm seemed to regard the new machinery as of already proved effectiveness, and the maintenance of permanent world- peace as an already accomplished fact. Yet their assurance and enthusiasm were so great, and so many were of such high intellectual standing, that even the most critical observer could begin to feel that perhaps there really was much more to the thing than he could see, and that there actually might be much warrant for the glowing claims.
Nevertheless, there were some of us with whom an uneasy skepticism ever reared its ugly head, even though beaten to earth repeatedly by the jubilant storm of words. For, as the wonders of the great new machinery were being extolled and admiring attention directed to its shining mechanisms, a critical observer might note that the highly- acclaimed apparatus seemed to function very well up to a certain point, producing “formulas,” agreements, resolutions, and other such things toward the composition of the designed end-product—permanent world- peace. But at that point production stopped, and a vital deficiency in the great design was there all too manifest. The structure had been predicated upon the theory that a spirit of altruism and high principle would largely govern the actions of the member nations, and that moral forces would suffice to insure compliance with its agreements and directives. But there remained unanswered the very practical question as to what further and concrete action would be taken should some recalcitrant refuse to heed those moral considerations and should flout the authority of the organization.
In the face of this glaring deficiency, even the most ardent apostle of “moral forces” was constrained to admit the necessity of something further and more effective. Then there was much talk of “implementing” the various “formulas” and the organization’s regulations and decrees. The participants indulged in a semantic carnival as they strove to gloss over the obvious fact that any real “implementing” would require the use of armed force; and if the armed force required in any instance were of sizeable proportions then it would be nothing much short of actual “war.” In such case, of course, there would be a complete contradiction and nullification of the enthusiastic claims for the power of moral forces.
However, this dialectical dilemma was met by the conception of something called “sanctions”—which appeared to consist of applying cultural and commercial blockades against a recalcitrant nation, and, in addition, some rather vague but purportedly effective measures against such nation’s comfort and peace of mind. From no standpoint, though, did any of these things constitute an act of war. Nevertheless, to many of us they sounded suspiciously like the same old things which always had been employed in the waging of actual warfare, or which at least could be depended upon usually to start a war. It was rather astounding, and at the same time depressing, to hear those solemn arguments to the effect that a physical blockade could be applied to the coasts or boundaries of a sovereign nation, its commerce strangled, and its national welfare jeopardized, without actual resistance from that nation and, consequently, armed hostilities. Undoubtedly a small, weak nation might be thus coerced without serious resistance; but what if the culprit should be one of the larger powers? Then, no matter what those proponents of “sanctions” might euphemistically term the inevitable result, it would be simply an old-fashioned shooting war in which people would get hurt and killed. And thus would ensue the very thing that the world organization was dedicated to prevent.
Occasionally, during this time, some cleareyed and realistic observer, who saw the actual weakness of the glorified structure, would have the temerity to sound an alien note in the midst of the joyful chorus—but always to little avail. To do so, however, required moral courage of the highest order, for the utterance of any note of doubt or disagreement was usually enough to bring down a storm of rage upon one’s head, and to win the brand of “enemy of society,” “blind reactionary,” or worst of all, “militarist.” Our military leaders in particular, charged as they were with the safety of the nation, hardly dared raise their voices in protest over a course which invited the very thing that the starry-eyed enthusiasts thought they were preventing. And when these leaders did protest especially against the determined program to reduce our naval power to a state of impotence, and tried to point out the dangers of that path, they were pilloried and lashed with the angry scorn and bitterness that the devoted followers of a pious cause
can always summon against a dissenter. These military Cassandras were truly prophets without honor in their own country, and in the face of things they could only bow their heads to the storm and hope that the true picture could be perceived before it would be too late.
But as we know only too well now, this hope was never realized.
In response to the loud clamor for the beating of our swords into ploughshares, and in an idealistic glow, our great country proceeded to throw away its armament. Amidst great rejoicing our fighting-ships were sunk or scrapped, and the powerful navy we had but recently built became hardly much more than a token force. Uncle Sam was rapidly shorn of his strength, and became a sort of simple, gullible old gentleman who gazed out upon the rest of the world with trusting eye, and who could be depended upon to adhere religiously to every jot and tittle of his international agreements, even where such might be greatly to his national disadvantage. Self-righteously he prided himself on his altruism and integrity in his international dealings, and that he was not as other men in such things. And as he thus vaunted himself in the eyes of the Lord, there were rather definite signs and omens abroad that some of those “other men” were even then busily engaged in nefarious plans which clearly boded the old gentleman no good. He refused to heed such things, however, as well as many disturbing indications to the effect that the lofty principles of the agreements those gentlemen had signed had been given the old heave-ho out the window almost before the ink was dry, and that while rendering lip-service to those pious abstractions, those other gentlemen were now merrily proceeding along some very practical lines.
But in those first few years after the great conflict, our people had not yet suffered the saddening disillusionments that were to come later in rapid succession as time went on, to culminate eventually in another great conflict of undreamed-of magnitude and ferocity. And so the earnest proponents of the new order went on practically unquestioned, as they exulted over the various “formulas” which would insure the future peace and freedom of the world; and under the influence of the glowing pictures, our American people indulged in a very orgy of self-righteous idealism. In this regard, perhaps an all-time high in self-delusion, utter fatuity, and whipped-up mass enthusiasm during all these years was reached, however, when a solemn pact “outlawing” war was signed by the great powers and published to a hopeful world. Great was the enthusiasm over this meaningless piece of paper; press and pulpit rang with paeans of praise; and so loud and exultant was the chorus that probably, as never before, a skeptical observer could feel that surely such enthusiasm must be warranted, and that he himself merely could not see as other men.
In our present sadder but far wiser condition, it is indeed difficult to understand the transports that reigned over that piece of solemn vacuity, and the pathetic faith that so many seemed to place in the peace pact’s meaningless phrases. Yet, at the time, the loud acclaim was just as perplexing to some of us. For in this instance, as in many of the others, we simply could not see what the cheering multitude seemed to see; and it gave us to ponder deeply. Then suddenly there came to mind a little tale we had read many years ago, when we were very young.
It dealt with a great Emperor of ancient China, who announced one day that he would have made for himself the most magnificent new suit of clothes that the Empire had ever seen, to wear at a coming great public festival. So he filled the palace with tailors, and put them to work on what he termed the richest and finest of fabrics obtainable.
Day after day the tailors busily cut and stitched, and the onlookers exclaimed in wonder and admiration at the richness of the fabrics and the beauty of the suit as it grew into shape. But actually the busy tailors were merely cutting and stitching the empty air, their needles held no thread, and the rich fabrics were but pure fantasy.
However, the great day came, and amid the blare of trumpets and the roll of drums the Emperor sallied forth in a glittering procession through the city streets. Loudly the spectators cheered, and loudly they exclaimed over the beauty and magnificence of the Emperor’s new suit. But suddenly above
ipicec
Official U. S. Navy Photograph
the ship we forgot to remember
Hie U.S.S. Panay sunk by Japanese bombers in December, 1937, in a preview of what was to come almost exactly four years later.
the ecstatic chorus there rang out the clear, high voice of a child. “Why!” she cried, that man is naked; he has no clothes on at all!”
We wondered then if the moral of this little tale might not be somewhat applicable to that solemn pact “outlawing” war, and applicable also to many other of the highly- acclaimed measures which were to insure permanent world-peace. And we had good warrant for such a feeling; for there were occurring untoward things which aroused grave misgivings in the minds of even the sincere believers in the efficacy of the peace machinery, and which threw a revealing !ght upon its naked ineffectiveness. A comP ete account of those things cannot be given iere, but there were one or two outstanding incidents in this regard which clearly demonstrated the inherent fatuity of most of the pacts and pious utterances, and also demonstrated in conclusive fashion that might was still right, and that sophistry and expedience were still cardinal factors in international affairs.
By this time it was an obvious and dis
tressing fact that all the acclaimed, so-called “successes” of the machinery to date in settling international disputes, were only in those cases where small, weak nations were alone involved, and where the interests of no large power might be adversely concerned. On the other hand, there was a conspicuous lack of happy results in any instance where one of the larger nations was directly involved; and in fact there was usually a marked disinclination for any action whatsoever. One case in point was a dispute which arose between Egypt and Great Britain over the assassination of a British official at Cairo. To the dismay of the earnest followers, Great Britain instantly proceeded to give the new world-tribunal a thorough flouting by handling the matter in typical old-fashioned manner—with immediate and direct demands for satisfaction, the landing of troops, and the prompt despatch of warships.
In vain did Egypt plead for adjudication of the dispute in accordance with the new order of things. Great Britain merely brandished the old, tried and true, mailed fist. And the prestige of the new tribunal took a decided drop.
There was another such incident, practically identical in its aspects and significance. An Italian general and his staff were assassinated in Greece, and Italy immediately demanded reparations and apologies. While Greece, like Egypt, appealed to the world- tribunal in vain, the Italians without further ado bombarded and occupied the Greek island of Corfu. The affair was finally settled by a conference of ambassadors, and the tribunal’s prestige received another blow.
But another and really shattering blow by Italy was in the making, and it occurred a few years later when Signor Mussolini took his country on a campaign of outright aggression and confiscation against an unoffending smaller nation. There could not have been a more glorious opportunity for the great world tribunal to demonstrate its usefulness and the claimed efficacy of moral forces and public opinion in restraining an aggressor. But when the unhappy victim laid his case before the world court, there ensued a rather shameful exhibition of the agency’s futility; and like Omar Khayyam, he came out the same door wherein he went.
So It Duce went merrily on his way, uncurbed. Then there was much talk of applying “sanctions,” and how those dread things would bring that international ruffian up with a round turn. In fact, a half-hearted sort of attempt at “sanctions” actually was made, but all the terrible lightning played about the Duce’s head like a swarm of stingless mosquitoes. For all of his stupid bombast and egotism, he knew full well that, despite their lofty protestations, none of the great powers was anxious to go to war with him over a small and unimportant country; and most assuredly he could not be halted otherwise. He continued on his nefarious path therefore, while the sincere believers in the potency of moral forces, and in the virtues of the world-tribunal, writhed in shame and anguish.
In the meanwhile, the course of events in other parts of the world did little to inspire further confidence in the badly-shaken structure; and though its followers still rallied bravely about their tattered banner, there could be little doubt now that their cause was indeed a lost one. On every hand it seemed that the lofty principles and moral forces they had deemed so efficacious were being given a most thorough and cynical flouting, and the ever-widening cracks in their structure of faith and hope clearly indicated its inevitable early collapse. In particular the “Peace Pact,” by which the great nations had “outlawed” war, was shown up in all its simple fatuity by events in the Far East. There a powerful nation was busily prosecuting something which looked suspiciously like aggressive warfare, in order to further certain of its national ambitions. But when there was shocked remonstrance from the gentlemen who had exorcised this vicious practice, the offender blandly denied that he was waging “war”; he was merely engaged in some “intervention for the restoration of order,” and against a wicked aggressor at that. It was rather similar to the story of the poacher who claimed that the rabbit had attacked him. “So sorry,” but it appeared that he was not aware that “war” had been abolished—and anyway what were they going to do about it? For various reasons, some not exactly creditable, they were going to do nothing about it, except to reproach the culprit sternly on the evil of his ways. And once again there was a shameful exhibition of futility in the world’s quest for universal peace.
As the rosy mists of idealism and wishful thinking rapidly dispersed under the pressure of these events, and as there was revealed the unquestionable failure of the world-tribunal, its devoted followers both here and abroad cast about for something or somebody upon which to place the blame. This scapegoat was immediately found in the person of our own Uncle Sam, and with one accord they pointed a reproachful and angry finger at his shrinking form. Through various factors he had not become an actual member of the organization, though he had rendered its cause every assistance and had poured forth his goods and gold to aid the war-torn countries toward recovery and stability. His nation was certainly the most altruistic, and the least warlike and selfseeking, of all the great nations; his military power was sadly disproportionate to his great wealth and size; and altogether he presented the least possible menace to the peace and liberty of the world. If the power of moral forces and public opinion were all that the ardent advocates claimed for it, then surely nobody had contributed more to the sacred cause. But the angry and discomfited followers poured out the vials of their wrath upon the poor old gentleman’s head, and pilloried him as the recreant responsible for the collapse of the grandiose plan.
The world turned on, and the storm signals and dark portents grew more evident day by day. We can look back now and wonder how our American people could have failed to realize their dire significance.
We were repeatedly warned that a wellarmed, resurgent Germany, under the leadership of a fanatical crackpot, had long thrown off the bonds imposed upon it by the victorious Allies and was about to set Europe, and perhaps even the world, again aflame. But we watched with only casual interest the desperate efforts of Great Britain to dissuade and restrain this madman, at first by soft words and pieces of paper, and finally by the ugly and dishonorable method of “appeasement.”
lliat such things were employed instead of vigorous words and the waving of a big stick merely signified to Hitler that the protestant was unable to take more effective action, and the only result each time was that he proceeded to further encroachment, and then calmly awaited the next protest. It was truly a shameful and depressing spectacle, and also one of most alarming portent to any intelligent observer.
Concurrently, on the other side of the world, another nation was following a similar course as it went about attaining what it considered its proper place in the sun; and with this, it diligently prepared for the war *■ knew would be thus inevitable. For several years it had been accumulating huge S s metals, fuel oil, and other materials W'u wou^ be essential to a major conflict.
• u1,CaPous disregard of the solemn treaties I ac* signed, this nation was rapidly building naval bases, airfields, and other military installations throughout the whole area of t ie strategically-located islands handed to it under mandate. At the same time, and with unblushing effrontery, it protested vigorously at the most insignificant increase or improvement contemplated for the American-held islands covered by the same treaties. Despite the rigid secrecy of those warlike preparations, our military leaders were painfully aware of them, and of what they portended for the United States. They knew that time was running out, and that the day was fast approaching when the gentlemen of Japan would strip off their smiling masks and confront a startled American people with the naked sword.
But the American people refused to believe that a civilized nation could violate its solemn word in such cynical fashion, and they refused to see the menacing, black cloud that was swelling up rapidly in the sky over the Pacific. Then suddenly, they were given a frightening preview of the things that were to come, as the Japanese military abruptly sloughed off their veneer of civilization and stood forth in all their primal barbarism. One bright December day, in the course of their unprovoked war upon China they stormed and captured the capital city of Nanking, and then completely and literally ran amok. The depths of utter savagery they reached at the time were to horrify the civilized world. And simultaneously, as they swept like ravening wolves into the unfortunate city, there took place a shocking incident which should have been like a flash of revealing lightning to the complacent American people.
Thirty miles above Nanking, an American man-of-war—only a small gunboat, and in a place where it had every right to be by treaty and international law—sank into the Yangtze River under a rain of Japanese bombs. It had been attacked without warning or justification; moreover, as its people abandoned the sinking craft with their wounded and dying, the Japanese aircraft swooped down and machine-gunned the loaded boats, killing and wounding more of the helpless occupants. There could have been nothing more unwarranted, unnecessary, and indefensible than the whole savage incident, and most Americans probably shuddered in horror at the shocking details.
But even as a horrified nation learned that an American naval vessel had been sunk and American sailors had been murdered in such savage, cold-blooded manner, various groups and individuals in the United States set up a loud chorus unpleasantly reminiscent of those days, about twenty-one years before, when German submarines were displaying their contempt for a neutral flag and the lives of women and children. They cried that we must not be hasty; there must be no harsh words or threats; the matter was not of sufficient gravity to warrant jeopardizing the sacred cause of peace. Some actually went so far as to cry that the ship had no business there, and shouldn’t have been in the way of any bombing.
Really frightened at first of the possible consequences of their savage act, the Japanese militarists quickly recovered their customary arrogance as they beheld what they thought was the reaction of the whole American nation. They listened happily to the loud chorus demanding that Uncle Sam give not way to his anger; and they were reassured by the pious clamor. So, after a certain show of apology and regret for the “unfortunate mistake,” the Nipponese gangsters continued on their unscrupulous path, serene and insolent in their conviction that the American people were a stupid and spineless lot and could be pushed around with impunity. The net result was a long step on the road to Pearl Harbor and the plunging of the American nation into a titanic struggle which was to tax its every resource, and bring maiming or death to many thousands more of our young Americans.
On a famous old sun-dial in a Scottish garden there is inscribed a terse little saying which is frighteningly true in its applicability to the affairs of man, whether as nations or as individuals. “It is later than you think” is the sober warning of the venerable timepiece—and that was exactly the state of things when we Americans finally perceived the fast-approaching storm and decided that it was high time to do something about our national security. But, by that time it was far too late, as we suddenly realized under the stunning impact of Pearl Harbor; and for many months to come we were to have the bitter experience of seeing our most desperate effort to overtake the course of events turn out to be only “too little and too late.”
As the great war waxed in length and ferocity, and its effects reached into every corner of the globe, it seemed that surely we Americans would never need another lesson in the utter folly and danger of military unpreparedness for our great nation. The struggle was long and bitter; the cost in lives and money was appalling; and more than once our cause tottered on the brink of major disaster.
However, the terrific onrush of our foes was at last halted; the tide was turned; and slowly but inexorably we crowded the aggressors back toward their homelands and final collapse. The end came in Europe, and what remained of the bloodthirsty Nazi hierarchy was groomed for an ignominious end upon the gallows. Then the end came in the Pacific, and the world-power of Japan became no more than an unpleasant memory.
Peace had been restored to the suffering world once more, but at a frightful price. The wreckage of the terrible conflict loomed high on every side, and it was a grim and most convincing demonstration of the cost of war and the tragic folly of unrealistic thinking.
But hardly had the tumult and the shouting died, and the guns had begun to cool, before the voice of the visionary was heard once more in the land; and once more there resounded the same fatuous catchwords and phrases which filled the air on that similar occasion but a tragically short number of years before. And once again, though in somewhat less degree this time, there has been the cry for Uncle Sam to divest himself of his weapons, as an earnest of his desire for permanent peace and of his faith in peaceful procedures. Concomitant with all this has been the familiar and perennial opposition to the maintenance of a reasonable state of military preparedness—a preparedness which, in the present condition of the world, surely must be regarded as nothing less than imperative for our national safety.
Yet the wisdom and necessity of such a state of preparedness are strongly disputed by some of our citizens, despite the frightening world-outlook and the painful lesson we have just received. And most prominent and fiercely-disputed of all aspects of the matter is the question of Universal Military Train-
mg. At the suggestion of this most sensible and efficacious measure there arose a loud cry from a number of groups and individuals of various categories who professed to see all inds °1 horrendous specters and menaces ooming darkly in such a thing. Because of e s^larP controversy over the plan, and because of his own evident conviction as to its vita necessity, the President of the United fates appointed a committee of leading educators, churchmen, and other citizens, to investigate and pass upon the merits of this proposed program. Their report should leave ut,little further doubt in any intelligent person’s mind; for unanimously and in the most unequivocal terms, these eminent representatives arrived at the finding that a well-
ordered program of universal military training would be one of the best possible contributions to a proper state of preparedness, and consequently to the future peace and safety of our nation.
Nevertheless, the opposition has continued to be earnest, and from some sources quite vociferous. Undoubtedly in many cases this opposition is based almost entirely upon high principle and honest conviction, but in many others it obviously arises from purely selfish considerations; and then there is that sizeable portion of it which only too clearly arises from certain doctrines definitely not concerned with the welfare of the United States. However, the most widespread feeling of opposition probably can be ascribed to one or two certain well-known characteristics of the human race; and of these, foremost perhaps is that typical human reluctance to face unpleasant realities or an irksome, laborious task. The great majority of our American people cannot help being aware of the ominous state of world affairs at present; and aware also of the existence of certain forces which constitute a definite threat to the American nation and its way of life. Surely by now they should be fully convinced of the folly and appalling cost of unpreparedness, by the two terrible conflicts into which we were plunged, willy-nilly, within a short space of years. And with this there certainly should be no question, now, that the availability of a trained citizenry would be a vital element in any proper state of national preparedness.
But many of us do not want to face these more-or-less unpleasant realities, and we are averse to any program, no matter how vital to our welfare, which will involve hard work, self-denial, and personal inconvenience. So many of us will strive to rationalize our opposition to a program of training and preparedness, by denying that any imminent danger exists, and hence that there is any necessity for such a measure. Others who will admit the vital necessity for preparedness, will nevertheless deny the necessity for universal training.
In their arguments these particular people display another familiar human characteristic—the wishful thinking which makes us feel that there is always a “short-cut” or an easier way to the solution of every problem, or to the attainment of our aspirations. It is a manifestation of the eternal “get-rich- quick” complex which afflicts us all, and which allows even the most astute to become easy prey for the charlatan or sharper who advertises a short and easy path to wealth, beauty, health, or the fluent speaking of French.
Accordingly many of these wishful thinkers eagerly espouse the idea that the “next war” will be a “push-button war”; a war of machines controlled by a small force of highly-trained scientific specialists operating at great distances from their targets. These weapons will accomplish all that for which huge armies and navies formerly were required; and moreover will accomplish, in a few hours or days, all that those vast aggregations of human beings used to take several years to accomplish. Hence, according to these theorists the training of large numbers of our citizens now, in the historic and conventional methods of warfare, would be only wasted effort, to say the least.
In such a contention is evident, also, that kind of popular thinking which ascribes to every radically-new type of weapon an awful effectiveness against which there can never be an adequate defense. Always it has been the “final and supreme” weapon, and so terrible that it “will make warfare impossible for mankind.” The story has been the same all down through recorded history; and except for the different nomenclature, the contemporary accounts in each case often read as if they might have been written today. In our own time the advent of the airplane opened such a dreadful vista that many were convinced that now, if never before, warfare would be simply too terrible for human beings to exist under it. The past great war brought even more terrible actualities and possibilities, however; and at the present moment it might well seem that in the event of another war, mankind will simply blast itself from the face of the earth, if not shatter the very sphere itself. But dire as this prospect seems, we must remember that for every terrible weapon of war contrived by human beings, there invariably has been a more-or- less effective countermeasure contrived by other human beings; and the net result so far has been to make warfare more complicated and ferocious, but nevertheless still not impossible.
There are several other arguments, of varying degree of relevancy, which many earnest people advance against a program of military training and preparedness, but these, too, all seem imbued with the characteristics of unrealistic and wishful thinking. As one outstanding feature they all seem to overlook the grim fact that it is yet to be proven that our national security can be safely entrusted to moral considerations alone, and that indeed we have had definite proof to the contrary. It is really inexplicable that supposedly intelligent people should be so ready to entrust the security of their great country to a mass of pious abstractions, when unquestionably they would not dream of such a thing in regard to the everyday security of their own lives and property. And in this regard it is probably a very safe assumption that even the most ardent advocate of entrusting our national security to moral considerations alone, would make the welkin ring with horrified expostulation should he suddenly find, for instance, that the city officials were planning to remove the large, well-armed policemen from the streets about his home, and were going to depend upon moral forces, instead, for protection of the community.
Along this line we might note the thought- provoking statement once made by a famous oldtime police official of New York City, when he declared his conviction, growing out of his many years of practical experience, that there is more law and order in the end of a policeman’s nightstick than in all the statutes on the books. A similar realistic conclusion was once expressed by another famous New York police official, when later he was the energetic and forthright President of the United States. On this occasion he asserted that a most excellent formula for the continued peace and security of the American nation lay in a certain homely, old adage, to wit: “Speak softly and carry a big stick; you will go far.” This utterance was made almost fifty years ago, well before that orgy of idealism and that flood of pious “formulas” which were to insure permanent peace— and didn’t.
It is a sad commentary upon human nature and the reputed efficacy of all those things, to look about us today and realize that in this homely little saying there still seems to lie the one sure prescription for the peace and security of the United States.
Ihus we have come down a long lane in the past thirty years, and it has been a lane without a turning. We have seen all the high- minded plans and projects for achieving permanent world-peace turn out to be merely adventures in futility, and the great problem remain unsolved. Now once again the American nation is confronted with an ominous state of affairs, and with decisions vital to its safety and possibly its very existence. And this time we simply cannot afford to gamble further with our national security, as we so lightly have done in the past. The whole picture is one hardly calculated to inspire much optimism from any viewpoint; and in the face of the dire possibilities of the situation, certainly every good American should, and will, exert every effort toward the preservation of peace in the world. But we shall not get very far in our endeavors to this end, and shall merely invite disaster, as we did before, unless we are willing to face realities, and to keep ever before us the eternal verities of human nature and the painful lessons of history and human experience.
So let us retain and exercise our traditional idealism and high standards in our international dealings, but at the same time let us accompany these things with a due measure of realistic thinking, and we shall go far toward insuring the continued peace of the world and, consequently, our own peace and security. A paramount and imperative feature of this realistic thinking must be, however, the maintenance of a proper state of national preparedness; with this “big stick” always available, we shall find that our soft words in the cause of peace will be of marvelous potency. And last but not least;.in our earnest efforts toward a peaceful world we shall avoid many a hazard and pitfall along the way if we keep ever in mind that historic bit of advice uttered, just 300 years ago, by the very realistic-minded leader of a very pious cause, Oliver Cromwell, when he solemnly adjured his doughty, psalmsinging warriors to “Trust in God—and keep your powder dry!”