We may conclude, then, that in deciding on the place for a distant permanent naval base, on which the operations of a whole fleet are to base for war, we should select the best site available, even if military strength and resources may have to be added to it artificially—unless in the case of any site considered the difficulties of adding them are insuperable.

The last sentence may seem like shirking the whole question, because it does not state what "insuperable" means; so it may be well to add that in modern days few engineering difficulties are insuperable, as the existence of the fortress at Heligoland shows. If the submarine and the mine did not exist, the difficulties would be greater than they actually are; because guns alone, no matter how carefully mounted and protected, could hardly be expected to keep off indefinitely the attack of a heavy fleet, or even to save from injury the fighting and auxiliary vessels anchored in its waters. But the submarine and mine combine to keep fighting ships at distances greater than those over which ship's guns can fire, and reduce the amount of fortification required on shore.

One of the principal sources of expense in establishing bases at some points would be that of dredging out harbors sufficiently extensive, while harbors sufficiently extensive are provided already by nature in such localities as Samana. But, as pointed out before, harbors on large islands can be taken from the land side, as was Port Arthur; and adequate protection from land attack is, in many cases, almost impossible if the enemy has command of the sea, as a superior hostile fleet would have in the Caribbean; while the hills and waters of Culebra and Vieques Sound could long defy not only actual invasion, but any fleet attack.

This brings us face to face with the fact that it may be less expensive to establish and protect a naval base situated on a little island, even if an artificial harbor has to be constructed, than to establish and protect a base on a large island, even if the base on the large island has a large natural harbor and can be more easily defended against bombardment from the sea. It would be cheaper, for instance, to protect a base on Culebra than one at Guantanamo, or even Samana, if the enemy commanded the sea; and cheaper to protect a base on the forbidding rocks of Polillo or Guam than on the large and fertile island of Luzon, with its extensive gulfs and bays, in many of which a fleet in command of the sea could land its force; because protecting a base on a large island would require covering a very large area, and perhaps a long extent of coast.

Aircraft may exercise an important influence on the choice of the position of a base, perhaps in the direction of choosing a base on a large island rather than on a small one; since the great speed of aircraft tends to lessen the importance of having the base out a great distance from home—so far as purposes of scouting are concerned. It seems probable also that aircraft will soon be recognized as inherently adapted to preventing the landing of hostile troops, by dropping bombs on the troops, while they are in process of disembarkation, while proceeding in small boats to the shore, and while in the act of landing on the beach, with their guns, ammunition, supplies, horses, and impedimenta of various kinds.

Co-operating Bases.—Discussion of the relative values of positions for bases, say in the Caribbean, should not blind our eyes to the fact, however, that no nation is prevented from establishing as many bases as it needs, wherever its flag may float; that the United States, for instance, is not debarred from establishing permanent naval bases at both Guantanamo and Culebra, should such a procedure seem desirable. The fact that each locality has advantages that the other does not have, suggests the idea that two bases, placed in those localities, would form a powerful combination. In fact, the great value of the position of Culebra being its distance toward the enemy, which necessitates a great distance away from our continental coast, and a long line of communications from that coast suggest an intermediate base as a support and stepping-stone. Analogous cases are seen in all the countries of Europe, in the fortresses that are behind their boundary-lines—the fortresses existing less as individuals than as supporting members of a comprehensive scheme.

Two bases, one at Guantanamo and one at Culebra, would in time of war in the Caribbean, add a value to our fleet that might make the difference between defeat and victory. The effective work that a fleet can do is a function of the material condition of the ships themselves, and of the physical and mental condition of the personnel that man them. Fighting is the most strenuous work that men can do; it calls for the last ounce of strength, the last effort of the intellect, the last struggle of the will; it searches out every physical imperfection in men, in ships, in engines, in joints, in valves. Surprise has sometimes been expressed at the quickness with which the Japanese defeated the Russians at Tsushima; but would any one express surprise if a pugilist, fresh from rest, quickly defeated another pugilist who, exhausted from long travelling, staggered hopelessly into the ring? And how would the betting be before a football match, if it were known that one of the teams would enjoy a rest of twenty-four hours before the game, whereas the other team would walk from the railroad to the ball grounds after a trip across the continent?

These analogies may seem forced—but are they? A living animal requires hours of rest and refreshment, in order that the tissues expended in action may be repaired by the internal mechanism of the body, and the food consumed be supplied from some external source. A fleet is in exactly the same category, even when operating in times of peace: and in time of war it needs, in addition, a station in which injuries may be repaired—a station analogous to that of the hospital for wounded men.

In the Caribbean it would seem necessary to successful operations, therefore, to have two bases, one say at Guantanamo and one at Culebra; the one at Culebra to be the principal base, and the one at Guantanamo the auxiliary. Culebra, by reason of the great work to be accomplished, and the engineering difficulties to be encountered, cannot be gotten ready for several years. Reliance, meanwhile, will have to be placed on Guantanamo; and as the coming of any war is not usually very long foretold, the urgency of fortifying Guantanamo stands out in clear relief.

The mutual relations of Guantanamo and Culebra are much like the mutual relations of Pearl Harbor in Hawaii and Guam—and so are the joint relations of each pair to the mother country. Culebra and Guam are the potential bases of the United States farthest away from the coast in the Atlantic and the Pacific respectively; and the nearest to countries in Europe and Asia with any one of which, of course, war will be always possible, and sometimes probable. Each is a small and rugged island, admitting of tremendous military strengthening by guns, fortifications, mines, and submarines, but connected to the motherland by a long line of communications. The line of communications of Culebra would, of course, be safer than that of Guam, because it is shorter than would be the line of an enemy attacking it; whereas, the line of communications of Guam would be longer. Guantanamo and Pearl Harbor are both stations about half-way from the home country to Culebra and Guam respectively; and though greater danger to our vital and commercial interests exists in the Atlantic than in the Pacific, Pearl Harbor has been fortified, and Guantanamo has not—and neither has Culebra. This sentence is not intended as a criticism of the government for fortifying Pearl Harbor. The Hawaiian Islands occupy the most valuable strategic position in the Pacific, and Pearl Harbor is the most important strategic place in the Hawaiian Islands; and it ought to have been strengthened many years ago, and to a greater degree even than is contemplated now. But the sentence is intended as a protest against our continued inertness in failing to establish any suitable naval bases whatever, especially in the Caribbean.

Distant Base in the Philippines.—The difficulty of finding suitable positions for bases is exemplified in the Philippines, for no suitable island is to be found there, except some that are within the archipelago itself; and these are so placed that, to reach them, our fleet would have to go through long reaches of water, ideally suited for destroyer and submarine attack. A possible exception is the island of Polillo, twenty miles east of the eastern coast of Luzon; and in many ways Polillo seems ideal. The practical difficulties are so great, however, the status of the islands in our national policy is so ill defined, and the futility of strengthening it, unless Guam be adequately strengthened also, is so apparent, that the question has been hardly even mooted. Polillo made impregnable, with Guam defenseless, supported by an undefended line of communications several thousand miles long to the main country, would in case of war with an active Asiatic power be reduced to the zero of effectiveness in whatever was the length of time in which its accumulated stores would be exhausted.

This sentence may be modified by saying that the time might be lengthened by the occasional arrival of supply ships and colliers that might come by way of the Mediterranean, or the Cape of Good Hope, or any other route which approached the Philippines from the southward; and it is possible that, in the unfortunate event of a war between us and some Asiatic power, our relations with European countries might be such as to make the use by us of such routes feasible and safe. In view, however, of the conditions of island possession in the Pacific as they actually are, and because of the rapid and abrupt changes that characterize international relations, the probability of being able to use such routes seems too small to receive grave consideration.

Other Bases in the Pacific.—The Pacific Ocean is so vast, and the interests of the United States there will some day be so great, that the question of establishing naval bases, in addition to bases at Pearl Harbor, the Philippines, and Guam, will soon demand attention. The localities that are the most obvious are the Panama Canal Zone and the Samoan Islands in the south, and the Aleutian Islands in the north. A moderately far-seeing policy regarding the Pacific, and a moderately far-seeing strategy for carrying out the policy, would dictate the establishment and adequate protection of bases in both the southern and the northern regions; so that our fleet could operate without undue handicap over the long distances required. The same principles that govern the selection of positions and the establishment of bases in the Atlantic apply in the Pacific; the same requirements that a base shall be near where the fleet will conduct its operations—no matter whether those operations be offensive or defensive, no matter whether they concern direct attack or a threat against communications.

In view of the great value of naval bases, one may be pardoned perhaps for a feeling of surprise that the United States has no real naval base, home or distant. Our large navy-yards are our nearest approximation to real bases. The yards at Norfolk and Bremerton seem to combine the three factors of position, strength, and resources better than do any other stations; though both are surpassed in resources by New York, Philadelphia, and Boston. Bremerton has the greatest natural military strength of all our stations; in fact, it is naturally very strong indeed, because of the length and nature of the waterway leading to it from the sea and the ease with which it could be denied. Norfolk is fortunate in its nearness to Chesapeake Bay and Lynn Haven Roads, and the ease with which the entrance to the Chesapeake from seaward could be defended; but the fact that it is only 18 miles from the Atlantic coast-line makes it more vulnerable than Bremerton to the attack of troops landed by an enemy fleet. The yard at Mare Island, near San Francisco, is faultily placed as regards deep water; but dredging could rectify this. The Panama Canal Zone has great facilities for repairs, docking, and supplies; but it must be adequately fortified in order to be a trustworthy base in the case of operations in its vicinity.

New York, by reason of its enormous wealth of every kind, its steamer terminals, and its excessively vulnerable position, within gunshot of ships out in the deep water (a position without parallel in the large cities of the world) must, of course, be protected. The cheapest way to protect it is to do so locally, by means of fortifications, and other shore defenses. The only other means would be by a fleet permanently kept near New York, a measure that would be expensive beyond reason.

In case the enemy should inform us that he would reach the vicinity of New York at a certain time, and in case he should fulfil his promise, the fact that New York was properly strengthened would not be very important; since our fleet would go there, and the whole war would be settled by one "stand-up fight." But wars are not so conducted and never have been. From the oldest times till now, and even among savage tribes, finesse has always been employed, in addition to actual force—more perhaps by the weaker than by the stronger side, but very considerably also by the stronger. A coming enemy would endeavor to keep his objective a close secret, and even to mislead us; so that our fleet would have to take a position out at sea, perhaps far away, which would leave our bases open to attack by the enemy fleet or at least exposed to raids.

The most effective local defense of a naval base is a combination of mine-fields and heavy guns, which also give protection to which the wounded vessels can retire, as the German vessels did after the North Sea battle. Unless such protection be provided, swift destroyers can complete the work that guns began, as the Japanese destroyers did, after the artillery battle at Tsushima.

In addition to their value in defending navy-yards from raids, and in giving wounded ships a refuge, the military strengthening of home bases, if such home bases are wisely placed near large commercial centres, prevents actual destruction of those commercial centres themselves, in case an attack is made upon them, either in the absence of the defending fleet, or after that fleet may have been destroyed. The line of engineering advance during recent years, although it has greatly increased the offensive power of war-ships, has increased even more greatly the defensive power of land works. For this reason, it is perfectly possible to defend successfully almost any land position against attack by ships; and it is so easy, that not to do so, is, in the case of large commercial centres, a neglectfulness of the extremest character.

One important reason, therefore, for placing a permanent home base near a large commercial centre is the fact that the fortification of one is also the fortification of the other.

Assuming that New York is to be defended locally, we can state at once that the New York naval station can easily be made to be a permanent naval base of the highest order, and of the most efficient type. In fact, it can be made into a naval base better than any other now in the world, because of the large sheets of water tributary to it in New York Bay, Hudson River, and Long Island Sound; the proximity of the sea; the untold resources in money, supplies, and men that it could on demand produce, and the ease with which it could be defended. To make such a base, it would be necessary to fortify the vicinity of Coney Island and the entrances from the ocean to the Lower Bay, and Long Island Sound; to deepen the channel to the navy-yard, and to make clear and safe the waterway from the East River to Long Island Sound. It would be necessary also to enlarge the navy-yard; and to this end, to buy back the land adjoining it, which the government most unwisely sold to private parties about twenty-five years ago.

Owing to the position of Block Island, relatively to the lines of communication of a hostile force coming from Europe to attack our eastern coast, and because of the sheltered waters held within it, suitable for small craft, the advisability of establishing a small naval base there is apparent. With a suitable base there and another on Martha's Vineyard, and the present canal from Massachusetts Bay to Buzzards Bay sufficiently enlarged, the whole coast from Boston to New York, including Narragansett Bay, could be made to form one naval base which would have three exits. Our own ships could pass from one point to another, and concentrate at will near Sandy Hook, Block Island, or Massachusetts Bay; and, which is equally important, the establishment of an enemy base near New York would be made almost, if not quite, impossible.

In case of an attack on our eastern coast, made directly from Europe, which could be accomplished easily during the calm months of the summer, the degree of efficiency shown by the bases at Norfolk, Philadelphia, New York, and Boston would influence vitally the condition in which our fleet would go to battle. Owing to the traditional policy, or rather lack of policy, of the United States, and the consequent unreadiness of our preparations, we may reasonably assume that war will find us in such a condition that the utmost haste will be necessary to get our whole naval force out to sea in time to prevent the enemy from making an actual bombardment of our shores. We have no reason to suppose that the ships actually cruising in our active fleet will not be ready; we have every reason to believe that they will be ready. But it is inconceivable that we should not try to oppose such an attack with all the naval force that we could muster; which means that we should try to send out many ships from our home bases to join the active fleet at sea.

The ease with which the passage of an enemy's fleet up the Delaware or Chesapeake could be prevented, in case any means of national defense whatever be attempted, compared with the difficulty of defending New York, and combined with the greater damage that an enemy could inflict on New York, mark the vicinity of New York as the probable objective of any determined naval attack upon our coast; no matter whether that attack be made directly from Europe, or indirectly from Europe by way of the Caribbean. To meet such an attack, various parts of the fleet would have to issue from their bases; even parts of the active fleet would probably have had to go to their home ports for some needed repairs or supplies. The first thought of an attacking fleet would naturally be to prevent our ships from getting out, as it was the thought of Nelson and other British commanders to prevent the issuing of forces from the ports of France. But in view of the great distance from Europe to our coast, and the impossibility of preventing the knowledge reaching us of the departure of the fleet (unless indeed all the powers of Europe combined to prevent it), it seems probable that no such issuing could be prevented, and that a very considerable American force would have time to take its station out at sea, prepared to meet the coming foe.

The home bases if properly prepared would exert a powerful effect on a battle near them by equipping the fleet adequately and promptly, and also by preventing a possible defeat from becoming a disaster, by receiving wounded ships before they sank. The wounded ships of the enemy, on the other hand, would have no base near by, and only those inconsiderably injured could probably be gotten home.

CHAPTER XII

OPERATING THE MACHINE

The naval machine, including the various vessels of all kinds, the bases and the personnel, having been designed, put together, and prepared for its appointed task of conducting war, and the appointed task having at last been laid upon it, how shall the machine be operated—how shall it be made successfully to perform its task?

In order to answer this correctly, we must first see clearly what is its task.

War.—War may be said to be the act of two nations or two sets of nations, by means of which each tries to get its way by physical force. The peaceful methods of diplomacy having been exhausted, arguments and threats having been tried in vain, both parties resort to the oldest and yet the latest court; the same court as that to which resort the lions of the desert, the big and little fishes of the sea, the fowls of the air, and even the blades of grass that battle for the sunshine.

The vastness of the issue decided by war, the fact that from its decision there is no appeal, the greatness of the forces that nations can produce, the length of experience of war extending through 8,000 wars, and during more than three thousand years of recorded history, the enormous literature of the subject, and the fact that more brain power, energy, and character have been devoted to war than to any other fruit of man's endeavor—combine to give to the conduct of war an importance that no other subject can possess.

The thing that each side brings forward against the other side is force; "that which moves or tends to move matter." In all ages, it has been directed primarily against the physical bodies of individual men, threatening each individual man with suffering and death. It appeals to the primal instinct of men, self-preservation, and is the ultima ratio regum, the last argument of kings—and not only of kings, but of all other living things as well.

The first feeling aroused by the threat against life, or physical well-being, is fear; and, therefore, the first force with which to oppose the threat is a force of the same spiritual nature as fear, but opposite in direction. This force is called in the English language "courage." Without courage every man and every nation would be at the mercy of every man or nation that made a threat against it. The inherent necessity for courage is thus apparent; and the reason is therefore apparent, for the fact that in every nation and tribe physical courage has been esteemed the greatest virtue in a man. In Latin, we know, the word virtus meant courage, and also virtue—showing that the Romans held the two qualities to be identical or similar.

In discussing the operations of war, little is usually said of courage. The reason, however, is not that its value is unrecognized, but that its existence is assumed; in the same way as that in which all the other faculties among the men are assumed, such as physical health, ability to march, etc. Movements to inspire fear, however, actions to break down the morale, are of frequent use; because, if the morale of the opposing side is broken down, its power of resistance is destroyed.

In the operations, therefore, of two contending parties, force is opposed by force. If the forces on both sides could be concentrated at a single point, and exerted in opposite directions, the result would be decided in an instant. Such an arrangement has never yet been brought about; though fairly close approximations have been made, when two parties have selected two champions who have fought for them—the victory going by agreement to the side whose champion became the victor.

Barring such rare occasions, contests in war have usually been between two forces spread over considerable areas of land or water; and the contest has usually been decided by the defeat of one of the two. If in any individual combat, all the forces possessed by both sides had been engaged, and if either force had been annihilated, the entire war between the two parties would have been decided. This was nearly the case in the naval battle off Tsushima between the Russian and Japanese fleets—and the treaty of peace was signed soon after. Usually, however, neither party to the quarrel has had all its forces on the field in any one battle, and neither force in the battle has been annihilated. Usually, only partial forces have been engaged, and only partial victories have been won; with the result that wars between contending nations have usually consisted of a series of battles, with intervals of rest between.

If two opposing forces in any battle were exactly equal in fighting power, neither side in any battle would gain a victory, the two sides would inflict identical amounts of damage on each other, and the two sides would end the battle still equal in force. At rare intervals, such conditions have been approximated; but usually one side has had more fighting power than the other, and has inflicted more damage of various kinds than it has received, with the result that it attained an advantage more or less important over the other, and with the further result that the original disproportion between the two forces was increased. The increase may not necessarily have been due to a greater number of killed and wounded or even to a greater loss of material, such as guns or ships; there may have been no increase in inequality in either of these ways, for the increase in inequality may have consisted in the fact that the weaker force was driven to a position less advantageous to it for conducting operations in the future. But whatever the nature of the advantage gained by the stronger side, the result has been that the weaker side has come out of the battle relatively weaker than it was before.

For this reason, it is highly desirable to each side to win each battle. This does not mean that the loss of any one battle by either party to a war means that the party losing that battle will necessarily lose the war; for many battles may be fought by such small portions of the whole nations' forces, or be lost by such small margins that the loss of one battle, or even several battles, may be retrieved; in fact, in few wars have the victories been all on one side. It does mean, however, that each lost battle is a backward step; and that for this reason the effort must be that no battle shall be lost.

Strategy and Tactics.—Now, to win battles, two things combine, strategy and tactics. The strategy of each side tries to arrange matters so that the forces on its side shall enter each battle with the greatest chance of victory; tactics tries to handle the forces with which it enters a battle in such a way that its side shall gain the victory. Strategy prepares for battles; tactics fights them.

The tactics of any battle must be in the hands of the commanders-in-chief on both sides. Any other arrangement is inconceivable; but the strategy controlling the series of battles in any war cannot now be committed to them solely; though it was usually committed to them until lately. In the days when Alexander went to war, or even when Napoleon and Nelson went to war, twenty-one centuries later, no telegraph by sea and land made swift communication possible; and the commanders on the spot were the only ones in possession of enough information about the contending forces to decide what measures should be taken. Even in those days, however, the capitals of the countries engaged in war, by reason of their knowledge of what was passing in the way of policy, exerted an influence on the strategy of the forces on both sea and land; Cæsar, for instance, was embarrassed in many of his operations by the Roman Senate, and it was for this reason that he crossed the Rubicon and passed from Gaul into Italy. When William I and Napoleon III went to war in 1870, however, Von Moltke had foreseen the effects of the telegraph and of rapid-mail communications, in giving to the headquarters of the army information of a much greater scope and reliability than had previously been the case, and had established a General Staff which had elaborated plans whereby not only would the commanders-in-chief in the field have the assistance of information compiled at headquarters, but whereby the general nature of the operations of a war, especially those operations at the outset on which the future conduct of the war would largely depend, would be decided and laid down in advance and during times of peace. The reason for the rapid victory of the Prussians over the French in 1870 was that the Prussians were better prepared in almost every way; especially in the most important thing—the war plans.

Now, these war plans could not, of course, be of such a kind that they would foresee every contingency and prescribe the conduct to be followed, so that a commander in the field could turn to page 221 of volume 755, and get directions as to what he ought to do; nor could they furnish the chief of staff, Von Moltke, with printed recommendations which he should offer to the King. In other words, the war plans could be only plans and, like all plans for future action, could be only tentative, and capable of being modified by events as they should come to pass. They were only plans of preparation, not plans of operation.

Yet there were plans of preparation for operations; plans prepared in accordance with the principles of strategy, and based on information as to the enemy's resources, skill, point of view, and probable intentions. They formed the general guide for future operations.

Since 1870, the invention and practical development of the wireless telegraph, and especially its development for use over very great distances, has modified the relations of commanders on the spot to home headquarters, and especially of naval commanders to their navy departments. The wireless telegraph, under circumstances in which it operates successfully, annihilates distance so far as communication is concerned, though it does not annihilate distance so far as transportation is concerned. It improves the sending and receiving of news and instructions, both for the commander at sea and for his department at home; but it does it more effectively for the department than for the man at sea, because of the superior facilities for large and numerous apparatus that shore stations have, and their greater freedom from interruptions of all kinds.

This condition tends to place the strategical handling of all the naval machine, including the active fleet itself, more in the hands of the department or admiralty, and less in the hands of the commander-in-chief: and this tendency is confirmed by the superior means for discussion and reflection, and for trial by war games, that exist in admiralties, compared with those that exist in ships.

The general result is to limit the commander-in-chief more and more in strategical matters: to confine his work more and more to tactics.

Such a condition seems reasonable in many ways. The government decides on a policy, and tells the Navy Department to carry it out, employing the executive offices and bureaus to that end, under the guidance of strategy. Strategy devotes itself during peace to designing and preparing the naval machine, and in war to operating it, utilizing both in war and peace the bureaus and offices and the fleet itself. And in the same way as that in which the bureaus and offices perform the calculations and executive functions of logistics, for furnishing the necessary material of all kinds, the fleet performs those of tactics. From this point of view, strategy plans and guides all the acts of navies, delegating one part of the practical work needed to carry out those plans to logistics, and the other part to tactics.

Operating the naval machine in war means practically operating the active fleet in such a way as to cause victories to occur, to cause the fleet to enter each battle under as favorable conditions as practicable, and to operate the other activities of the navy in such a way that the fleet will be efficiently and promptly supplied with all its needs. Strategy employs tactics and logistics to bring these things to pass; but this does not mean that strategy stands apart and simply gives logistics and tactics tasks to do. The three agencies are too mutually dependent for any such procedure and require for their successful working, both individually and together, the most thorough mutual understanding and support.

Flanking, T-ing, etc.—It being a fact that no nation can put a force upon the sea that is concentrated at one point; it being a fact that every naval force must be spread over a considerable area and made up of various parts, and that the efficacy of the various parts in exerting force upon a definite enemy depends on the unity of action of the various parts, it results that the most effective way in which to attack any naval force is not to attack all the parts at once, thus enabling all to reply, but to attack the force in such a way that all the parts cannot reply. If we attack a ship for instance, that can fire 10 guns on a broadside and only 4 guns ahead, it is clear that we can do better by attacking from ahead than from either side. Similarly, if 10 ships are in a column, steaming one behind the other, each ship being able to fire 10 guns from either side and only 4 ahead, the 10 ships can fire 100 guns on either side and only 4 ahead; and therefore it would be better to attack the column from ahead (to "T" it), than to attack it from either side.

It is curious to note how widely this simple illustration can be made to apply to both strategy and tactics; how the effort of each is to dispose our force so toward the enemy's force that we can use our weapons more effectively than he can use his. An extreme illustration might be made by imagining 1,000 soldiers standing in line and unable to face except to the front; in which case it is clear that, no matter how perfectly they might be armed, or how quickly and accurately they could fire, one man standing on the flank, or behind them, could kill one soldier after the other, until all the 1,000 were killed, and be in no danger himself.

In case of attacking a ship or a column of ships from ahead, or of attacking a line of soldiers on the flank, the effectiveness of the method of attack lies in the fact that a number of the weapons that are present in the force attacked cannot be used in reply.

Concentration and Isolation.—The value of "concentration" is often insisted on, but the author desires to call attention to a misunderstanding on this point, to which he called attention in an essay in 1905. To the author, it seems that concentration is a means and not an end, and that the end is what he called "isolation" in the essay. If a man concentrates his mind on any subject, the advantage he gains is that he prevents other subjects from obstructing the application of his mental powers to that subject; he pushes to one side and isolates all other subjects. In this particular activity it does not matter whether we call his act "concentration" or "isolation" because the whole operation goes on inside of his own skull, and concentration on one subject automatically produces isolation or elimination of all others. But when concentration is attempted on external objects, the case is very different, for concentration may not produce isolation at all. For instance, if 4 ships in column A concentrate their fire on the leading ship in column B, the other 3 ships in column B are not isolated, and can fire on the ships of column A, even more effectively than if column A was not concentrated on the leading ship of B, because they are undisturbed by being fired at. If, however, the 4 ships of A "flank" or "T" the ships of column B, as shown in Fig. 2, and concentrate on the leader of B, they thereby isolate the other ships, and practically nullify their ability to fire at A.

This effect is approximated by an approximate "T-ing" or "flanking," such as is shown in Fig. 3; because the average distance from the ships of A to the leading ship in B is less than the average distance from the ships in B to any ship in A; and because the direction of fire from each ship in A is more nearly abeam than is the direction of fire from the ships of B. These positions are very difficult to gain, even if A's speed is considerably greater than B's; since all B has to do to prevent it is to head to the right, unless shoals or other dangers such as enemy battleships, C, are on that side, co-operating with A.

An interesting position is that shown in Fig. 4, which may be assumed by A, either for flight, or to get the advantage in torpedo fire. The advantage is that the A ships are running away from torpedoes fired by B, while B is running into torpedoes fired by A. This advantage is not great if the distance between A and B is so little that B's torpedoes can reach A. But if A is able to make this distance equal to the entire range over which B's torpedoes can run, or near it, B's torpedoes cannot reach A at all.

A similar advantage, though in a modified degree, is that shown as possessed by A in Fig. 5. Due to the direction of movement of the A and B fleets, it is easier for A's torpedoes to reach B, than for B's torpedoes to reach A.

Positions of advantage are usually gained by superior speed. One of the main reasons for the development of the battle cruiser has been the fact that her high speed and great offensive power enable her to gain positions of advantage and utilize them. The A positions shown in the figures are attainable by battle cruisers against battleships, and are very effective.

A procedure analogous to that of flanking is one in which part of a force is attacked when it is separated from the rest of the force, and cannot be supported by it—in that some of the weapons of one force cannot be used. The effect is similar in the two cases, but the events leading up to the two conditions may be quite different.

In the former case, that of being flanked, or T'd, the force caught at a disadvantage was together, and was able to operate effectively as one force against a force located in a given direction; but was attacked by a force located in another direction; while in the latter case, the force was divided, and one part was caught, while distant from and entirely unsupported by the other part. The former condition is more likely to result from tactical operations, and the latter from strategical operations—and yet, especially in land operations, the flanking of one force may be brought about by the carefully planned strategical combinations of the other force; and catching one part of the enemy's force unsupported by the other parts may take place during the tactical maneuvers of an actual or a simulated battle.

In naval operations, the catching of separated parts of an enemy's force is a more frequent attempt and accomplishment than is that of getting a position where a column of ships can be attacked from ahead or astern. It seldom happens, with the great number of vessels of all kinds which compose a modern fleet, that it is practicable to keep the various parts together, or that it would be desirable to do so. The closest approximation to keeping a large naval force together, is keeping them in column; because in that formation, the ships can be made simply to "follow the leader" without signal, and act like one long, flexible body. But the vessels of a modern fleet would make a column many miles long—a column of 20 battleships alone would be 5 miles long, and the addition of the various cruisers, destroyers, and other vessels, would make a column so long that it would be unwieldy; and if its ends were attacked, the other vessels could not come to their relief. Besides, the duties of battleships, battle cruisers, scouts, destroyers, and submarines, are distinct—with the result that, as in land operations, bodies of the various types operate separately and apart from those of other types.

Not only, also, do the various types operate separately, but often the necessities of a case demand that a certain number—say of battleships—be sent away from the main body on some mission; or that a certain number of destroyers be sent away from the main body of destroyers.

Any such diversion entails a danger that is sometimes great, and sometimes small; but such diversions and risks cannot be avoided, and should not be avoided when they are necessary, any more than a man should avoid going out of doors, though that act always entails some danger. Suppose, for instance, that in the operations of a war carried on in the Caribbean, the Navy Department should get trustworthy information that the enemy had detailed 3 battle cruisers to speed north and bombard New York. The department would probably have to detach a force from the fleet and send it north, to prevent the bombardment. Yet not only would the force so sent be in danger until it returned of an attack by a superior force, but the main body from which it was detached would be thereby weakened; furthermore, the information might have been incorrect—it might have been originated and given out by the enemy, in the hope that it would cause such a diversion of force.

Every operation in war entails a risk more or less great; and if no risks were to be taken, it would be better not to go to war. It is true that some wars have been undertaken in which the preponderance of force was so great that there was very little doubt of the actual outcome, and very little risk taken by one of the two parties. Such wars, however, have been very few; and they were hardly wars in the usual sense, any more than the beating of a little boy by a big boy could properly be called a "fight."

Reference may again be made here to Table I on next page, which shows the way in which fights between unequal forces proceed, and the advantage of fighting the separated parts of an enemy rather than the united force. We can see this clearly if we note that, if two forces each aggregating 1,000 were in each other's vicinity, and if the entire force A was able to engage half of B, or 500, it would whip half of B, and have 841 remaining, with which to engage the other half (500) of B. Reference to the end of the third period in this table shows also that if a force of 789 engages a force of 523, it will have 569 left, after the other has been reduced to zero. So, a force of 1,000 that engages two forces of 500 separately, will have more than 500 left, after the others have both been reduced to zero: whereas, if it engages both, when they are united, both sides will be gradually reduced to zero, remaining equal all the time.

It is interesting to note how this simple fact is the key to most of the operations of strategy and tactics; how—the mechanical tools in the way of ships and guns and torpedoes having been supplied—the key to their successful use is simply to take advantage of all opportunities of isolating one part of the enemy's force from the rest, and then attacking one of the parts with a force superior to it. Opportunities lacking, one must, of course, try to create opportunities by inducing the enemy to detach some part of his force, under circumstances such that you can attack it, or the weakened main body, with a superior force. Naturally, one must try to prevent a similar procedure by the enemy.

This does not mean that the sole effort of naval operations is finesse in either strategy or tactics; sometimes the sole effort is to force a pitched battle by the side that feels superior, and to avoid a pitched battle by the side that feels inferior. Before the actual inferiority or superiority has been ascertained, however, the strategy of each commander is to bring about a situation in which his force shall have the advantage. The advantage having been gained and recognized (or an advantage existing and being recognized), strategy insists on forcing a battle, for the reason that every contest weakens the loser more than it does the winner.

This does not mean that it is always wise to engage a weaker force that is temporarily separated from its main body. It is readily understandable, for instance, that it would be unwise in two cases:

1. A case in which the weaker force were so little weaker, and were part of a force so much larger than the total of the smaller force, that the gain as between the two forces actually engaged would not be great enough to compensate for the loss entailed. For instance, a reference to Table I shows that an A force of 1,000 engaging a B force of 800 would have 569 left when B was reduced to zero. This is impressive: but if the B force of 800 were part of a total B force of 2,000, in other words if there were an A force of 1,200 near at hand, B would have 569 left with which to oppose 1,200, a proportion a little less advantageous than the proportion he started with—1,000 to 2,000.

2. A case by which the B force may have divided with the express purpose of luring A to attack; arrangements having been made whereby the inferior B force would simply hold the A force until the whole B force could come to its assistance; arrangements having been also made that this would be accomplished before the detached part of B should get very badly damaged.

Attention is invited to Table III, which is a continuation of Table I. It represents what would happen if a force of 1,000 should fight separately two forces, one of 800 and the other of 200. In column 1, A is supposed to have engaged the 200 first, and so to have become reduced to 970, and to engage 800 afterward. In column 2, A is supposed to have engaged 800 first, thereby becoming reduced to 569, and then to engage the 200 force. The table indicates that it makes no difference whether A engages the stronger or the weaker force first.

Column 3 shows that a force of 841, the part remaining after a force of 1,000 had annihilated a force of 500, would have 653 left after annihilating a second force of 500. Taken in connection with columns 1 and 2, this indicates that it is easier to defeat two separated equal forces than two separated unequal forces of the same aggregate value; that the weakest way in which to divide a force is into equal parts. This fact is mathematically demonstrated by Mr. F. W. Lanchester in a recent book called "Air Craft in Warfare."

The main advantage of superior speed in naval operations is the ability it gives to secure tactical positions of advantage, and to make desirable strategic dispositions; ability, for instance, to T or flank an enemy force, and to prevent the enemy from T-ing or flanking; also to catch separated parts of an enemy fleet before they can unite, while retaining the ability to divide one's own force without undue risk. For these purposes, speed is an element of the highest value; but the high price that it costs in gun power or armor protection—or both—and the fact that speed cannot always be counted on by reason of possible engine breakdowns and foul bottoms, result in giving to war-ships a lower speed than otherwise they would have.

Owing to the fact that, for any given horse-power put into a ship, the speed attainable increases with her length; and owing to the further fact that the weight that any ship can carry increases more rapidly than the displacement (weight of the ship complete), the best combination of gun power, armor protection, and speed is attainable in the largest ship. In other words, the larger the ship, the more power it can carry in proportion to its size, and the more quickly that power can be placed where it can do the most good.

Strategic Operations.—These may be divided into two classes, offensive and defensive. The two classes are distinct; and yet there is no sharp dividing-line between them any more than there is between two contiguous colors in the spectrum. Defensive operations of the kind described by a popular interpretation of the word "defense" would be operations limited to warding off or escaping the enemy's attack, and would be just as efficacious as the passive warding off of the blows of fists. Such a defense can never succeed, for the reason that the recipient is reduced progressively in power of resistance as the attacks follow each other, while the attacker remains in unimpaired vigor, except for the gently depressing influence of fatigue. Reference to Table I will render this point clear, if we make the progressive reductions of the power of one contestant, and no reductions of the power of the other contestant.

Defensive operations, therefore, include "hitting back"; that is, a certain measure of offensive operations, intended to weaken the ability of the enemy to do damage. In fact, no operations are more aggressively offensive, or more productive of damage to the enemy's personnel and material, than operations that are carried on in order to defend something. No animal is so aggressively belligerent as a female "defending" her young.

Offensive and defensive operations are nevertheless quite different, especially in two particulars, one being the use of the initiative or attack, and the other the distance to the home. In offensive operations, the attack is made; in defensive operations, the attack is resisted; and even if the resistance takes an aggressive character, and drives the original attacker back to the place he started from, yet the side which has made the original attack has carried on offensive operations, and the other side defensive. Offensive operations are, as a rule, carried on farther from home than defensive operations. If A is carrying on offensive operations against B, A is usually farther away from his home than B is from his home. We see from this that the offensive has the advantage of the initiative, of making an attack for which the enemy may be unprepared, and has the disadvantage of being far from its home bases; whereas the defensive has the disadvantage of not knowing when or where or whence an attack is to come, and the advantage of the support of various kinds given by home bases. In other words, the offensive has the advantage except in so far as it is impaired by unfavorable conditions.

For this reason, every military nation at the outset of war desires to be able to assume the offensive; and only refrains from the offensive from motives of prudence or because, in a particular case, the distance between the adversaries is so great, that the lack of bases would be of greater weight than the advantage of the initiative—or because the situations of the contending parties would be such that the side accepting the defensive rôle and staying near home, might be able to carry on aggressive attacks better than could the other. An illustration of a mistake in taking the offensive, and the wisdom of the other side in accepting the defensive, may be seen in Napoleon's expedition against Russia; for the Russians were able to repel his attack completely, and then to assume a terrible offensive against his retreating, disorganized, and starving army. Another illustration was the expedition made by a weak Spanish fleet under Cervera to the Caribbean in 1898. Another illustration was that of the Russians in the war of 1904; the practical disadvantages under which the Russian fleet operated at Tsushima were too great to be balanced by the advantage of the attack; especially as the situation was such that the Japanese were able to foretell with enough accuracy for practical purposes the place where the attack would be delivered, and the time.