CHAPTER LXVIII
ENVOYS FROM AMERICA'S ALLIES
What perhaps most vividly brought home to the nation that it was now one of the belligerents of the Allied Powers was the visit of a number of special commissioners from the governments of the latter countries, following the American declaration of war. The presence of the British and French missions in particular made a deep impression, not only because of the importance and magnitude of their errand, but because of their personnel. The British mission was headed by Arthur James Balfour, a former Conservative premier, and now Foreign Secretary in the Lloyd-George cabinet. The French mission included René Viviani, a predecessor of Premier Ribot and a member of his cabinet, and Marshal Joffre, the victor of the Battle of the Marne and an idol of France. The commanding personalities of Mr. Balfour and Marshal Joffre caught the American imagination and the visits they paid to several cities during their brief stay partook of the character of state events, marked by an imposing welcome and sumptuous hospitality.
A reception no less generous was accorded the members of the other missions—the Italian, headed by the Prince of Udine, son of the Duke of Genoa and nephew of King Victor Emmanuel, and including Signor Marconi, the inventor of wireless telegraphy; the Russian, headed by Boris Bakhmetieff, the new Russian Ambassador; and the Belgian, headed by Baron Moncheur. Other missions came from Ireland, Rumania, and Japan.
The reception of these various missions formed the occasion for a number of state functions which placed the Administration in the rôle of a national host to many distinguished guests from foreign countries with which the United States was now allied for the first time in a devastating war. The honors paid to them produced remarkable proceedings in Congress without parallel in that body's deliberations; but then the great world war had shattered precedents wherever it touched. The spectacle was witnessed of a British statesman, in the person of Mr. Balfour, addressing the House and Senate, an event which became an enduring memory. Congress also heard addresses from M. Viviani, Baron Moncheur, and the Prince of Udine. They told why their countries were in the war—a familiar story whose repetition within the halls of Congress had considerable point in that the national legislature itself had sanctioned war on Germany for the same reasons. American and Allied statesmen thus met on common ground in a common cause. The numerous conferences between the various sections of the Allied missions and American officials—beginning with that between the President and Mr. Balfour—were councils of war. They symbolized the joining of hands across the sea in a literal sense—across a sea infested with German submarines, which the envoys, incidentally, escaped both in coming and returning.
In the public ceremonials that marked their visit the leading envoys freely and repeatedly expressed their grateful recognition to the United States for unselfishly entering the war at last on the side which was fighting for civilization—a disinterested action without parallel in the history of wars, as Mr. Asquith had called it. Their gratitude might well be taken for granted; but, like the Allies' aims in the war, it bore repetition, because American aid was sorely needed, and they had, in fact, come to accept as much assistance as the United States had to give.
The immediate need was money, food, ships—all the accessories of war outside the fighting zone. Funds for loans having become available, the American Treasury proceeded to distribute its largesse generously. Great Britain received $200,000,000 as the first installment of a number of loans; France and Italy received $100,000,000 each; Serbia got $3,000,000; Russia $175,000,000; France another $60,000,000; and Great Britain $300,000,000 more. Further credits to the various countries brought the amount loaned to $1,525,000,000 by the close of July, 1917, or more than half of the $3,000,000,000 sanctioned by Congress for financing the Allies.
By these transactions the United States Government displaced the banking firm of J. P. Morgan & Co., who had been acting as fiscal agent for the Allies since they began to purchase huge supplies in America on American credits.
Great Britain, as the bulwark of her allies, had many weighty matters to lay before the United States. Her mission sought an understanding regarding the conduct of the blockade, naval operations, munition supplies, military dispositions and resources, and the shipment of foodstuffs. There was no driving of bargains, since neither was a competitor of the other, and hence could have no radical difference of view on questions to the settlement of which they had been drawn in union against a common foe. The attitude of the British mission invited American cooperation, reciprocal service, and expressed gratitude for the American partnership. They had no policies to suggest to the Administration. They had much information on the conduct of the war to lay before the United States—specially blunders to be avoided; but they did not presume to teach Americans how to make war. The United States, on its part, eagerly wanted to know all that could be known, and to be guided accordingly.
A week of conferences clarified the situation. Both the British and French missions revealed with surprising frankness the status of the Allied resources and the military situation. Great Britain was especially candid in disclosing the extent of her losses by submarines. She needed ships, as many as America could build. France needed an American army at once to augment her man power. Italy wanted coal and grain. Most of all, the collapse of Russia's military organization had brought the Allies to the pass of relying on American aid as imperative if Germany was to be defeated.
The personal contact between American Government officials and the various missions, especially the British, produced a mutual confidence and sympathy not to be measured by words. Resources and needs were frankly stated. The United States disclosed what it could do and how. The way, in short, was cleared for the United States to enter the Grand Alliance on a basis making for efficient cooperation in the conduct of the war.
A gentleman's agreement was effected with neither side committed to any binding policy. The United States retained a free hand, and was not controlled, formally or informally, by any entangling undertaking as to any future course it might elect to take in its relations with Germany. But one enlightening point emerged. It was that while the United States was free to enter into any peace it chose, it would not enter into a separate peace. No action in that direction was imaginable in the circumstances without consulting the Entente Allies. This injection of peace considerations into the war situation, before the United States had really entered the lists with troops and guns, was taking time by the forelock. But it was needful to clear the air early, as one of the reasons ascribed to Germany's apparent complacence to the entrance of America as a belligerent was that she counted on the United States as a balance wheel that might restrain the Entente's war activities and hasten peace, or later operate to curtail the Entente's demands at the peace conference. On these assumptions America's participation was supposed to be not wholly unwelcome to Berlin.
American freedom of action was unlikely to confuse the war issues in the manner Germany looked for. Whatever hopes Germany built upon that freedom did not deter Secretary Lansing and Mr. Balfour from hastening to counteract misleading impressions current that America would be embarrassed in its postwar foreign policy by becoming involved in European territorial questions, from which, for more than a century, it had remained aloof.
The French mission also achieved an incontestable popular triumph, due to the presence of Marshal Joffre and to memories of French assistance in the Revolutionary War. France's heroic resistance to German invasion of her territory, specially in thwarting the advance on Paris, had also attached American sympathies to her cause. M. Viviani and Marshal Joffre did not hesitate to avail themselves of this feeling by plainly requesting the immediate dispatch of American troops to France. While this course conflicted with the early plans of the American General Staff, the latter had to recognize the immense moral effect which the flying of the Stars and Stripes would have on the Allied troops in the Franco-Belgian trenches, and the request did not go unheeded. The country realized that the French importunity for troops was born of an equally importunate need.
All the missions, except the British, were birds of passage, who departed upon fulfilling their errands of securing American aid in directions where it was most required. There was more permanency to the British mission, owing to Great Britain's rôle of general provider to her Allies, which called for the establishment of several British organizations in New York and Washington as clearing houses. Mr. Balfour and his suite left, to be succeeded by Lord Northcliffe, chief proprietor of the London "Times," London "Daily Mail," and many other British publications, who was commissioned by Lloyd-George to continue the work Mr. Balfour had begun and to coordinate the ramifications produced by extensive scope of the Allies' calls on American industries for war equipment.
In the same direction the American Government consolidated its energies in a War Industries Board, which it created to supervise the expenditure of millions of dollars on equipping the American armies.[Back to Contents]
CHAPTER LXIX
IN IT AT LAST
The Administration decided to send an American expeditionary force to France as an advance guard of the huge army in process of preparation. Major General John J. Pershing was placed in command of this expedition, which was believed to embrace an army division, a force of the Marine Corps, and nine regiments of engineers. A veil of official secrecy (religiously respected by the press in pursuance of the voluntary censorship it imposed upon itself) was thrown over the dispatch of the preliminary force, and nothing further was heard of it until tidings came of the unheralded arrival of General Pershing in England on June 8, 1917, and of the appearance of a number of American warships off the French coast about the same time.
This latter event proved to be the safe arrival of a convoyed naval collier, the Jupiter, which served as a harbinger of the fleet of transports conveying the American troops. It carried a cargo of army provisions, including over 10,000 tons of wheat.
The arrival of the first division of transports at an unnamed French seaport was reported on June 26, 1917. They were signaled from the deserted quays of the town at 6 o'clock in the morning, and as they steamed toward port in a long line, according to an eloquent eyewitness, they appeared a "veritable armada," whose black hulls showed clearly against the horizon, while the gray outlines of their escorting destroyers were almost blotted out in the lead-colored sea. Dominating all was an enormous American cruiser with its peculiar upper basket works. The warships went to their allotted moorings with clockwork precision, while tugs took charge of the transports and towed them to their berths. Resounding cheers were exchanged between the troops which lined the rails of the incoming ships and the populace which lined the quays.
The next day came a formal intimation from Paris that the first expeditionary unit of American troops, in command of Major General William L. Sibert, had safely reached their destination. Rear Admiral Gleaves, commanding the destroyer force which accompanied the transports, telegraphed the Navy Department to the same effect. But it subsequently transpired that all had not been plain sailing in passing through the submarine zone.
The expedition was divided into contingents, each contingent including troopships and a naval escort designed to hold off any German raiders that might be sighted. An ocean rendezvous had also been arranged with the American destroyer flotilla under Admiral Sims, which had been operating in European waters since May 4, 1917, in order that the passage of the danger zone might be attended by every possible protection. Frequent indications pointing to the presence of submarines in the expedition's course were observed as the transports neared European waters. The passage through the infested zone was therefore made at high speed; the men were prepared for any emergency; boats and life belts were at hand for instant use; and watches at every lookout were heavily reenforced.
These precautions were timely and more than warranted. The first contingent of transports was attacked twice by German U-boats. Admiral Gleaves, describing these incidents in reporting to Admiral Mayo, commander in chief of the Atlantic fleet, said the first attack was made at 10.15 p. m. on June 22. The location, formation, and names of the transports and the convoys, the speed they made, and the method of proceeding, were suppressed in the account made public by the Navy Department.
It appeared that the destroyers' flagship, which led the transport fleet, was the first to encounter the submarine. At least the officer on deck and others on the bridge saw a white streak about fifty yards ahead of the ship, crossing from starboard to port at right angles to the ship's course. The ship was sharply turned 90 degrees to starboard at high speed, a general alarm was sounded, and torpedo crews were ordered to their guns. One of the destroyers called A and one of the transports astern opened fire, the destroyer's shell being fitted with tracers. Other members of the convoying destroyers turned to the right and left. At first it was thought on board the flagship that the white streak was caused by a torpedo, but later reports from other ships warranted the conclusion that it was the wake of the submarine itself. At 10.25 the wake of a torpedo was sighted directly across the bow of the destroyer called A, about thirty yards ahead. The ship's course was swung to the left, and shots were fired from port batteries in alarm, accompanied by blasts from the siren. The destroyer then passed through a wake believed to be from the passing submarine. A second torpedo passed under the destroyer A's stern ten minutes later.
Another destroyer known as D was also the target of a torpedo which passed it from starboard to port across the bow about forty yards ahead of the ship, leaving a perceptible wake visible for about four or five hundred yards.
The submarine sighted by the flagship immediately engaged the attention of destroyer B. In fact it darted under the latter and passed the flagship's bows, disappearing close aboard on the flagship's port bow between the destroyer columns. The B followed the wake between the columns and reported strong indications of two submarines astern, which grew fainter. The B afterward guarded the rear of the convoy.
So much for the ghostly movements of the submarine or submarines which crossed the tracks of the first contingent of American transports on the night of June 22. In the absence of more tangible proof of their presence beyond that provided by white streaks and wakes on the sea surface, the incident might well have been a false alarm. It only occasioned much excitement and activity. But its interest lay in the alertness of the destroyers to danger. The officers on board the flotilla had no doubt at all that the danger was real. Admiral Gleaves, indeed, saw circumstantial evidence of the menace in alluding to a bulletin of the French General Staff which referred to the activities of a German submarine off the Azores. This U-boat, the bulletin said, was ordered to watch in the vicinity of those islands, "at such a distance as it was supposed the enemy American convoy would pass from the Azores."
The second contingent of transports, which arrived in France a week later, had a similar experience, with the important difference that their encounters with submarines took place in broad daylight, and that the firing at one of them produced material traces of the enemy's proximity. Two submarines were met on the morning of June 26, 1917, one at 11.30, when the ships were about a hundred miles off the coast of France, the other an hour later. The destroyer H, which was leading, sighted the first U-boat, and the I pursued the wake, but without making any further discovery. The second episode was more convincing of the actual presence of a submarine. The destroyer J saw the bow wave of one at a distance of 1,500 yards and headed for it at a rapid speed. The pointers at the destroyer's gun sighted its periscope several times for several seconds; but it disappeared each time before they could get their aim, which the zigzagging of the ship impeded. Presently the J passed about twenty-five yards ahead of a mass of bubbles which obviously came from the submarine's wake. A deep charge was fired just ahead of these bubbles. Several pieces of timber, quantities of oil and débris then came to the surface. Nothing more was seen of the submarine. There was plain evidence that it had been sunk.
Two days later—on the morning of June 28, 1917, at 10 o'clock—the destroyer K opened fire at an object, about three hundred yards ahead, which appeared to indicate a submarine. Admiral Gleaves described it as a small object rising a foot or two high out of the water, and leaving a small wake. Through binoculars he made out a shape under the water, too large to be a blackfish, lying diagonally across the K's course. The port bow gun fired at the spot, and the ship veered to leave the submarine's location astern. Then the port aft gun crew reported sighting a submarine on the port quarter, and opened fire. The lookouts also reported seeing the submarine under the water's surface. The ship zigzagged and the firing continued. Not only was the submarine seen but the lieutenant in charge of the firing on the K destroyer, as well as the gun crews and lookouts aft, testified that it fired two torpedoes in the direction of the convoy. The latter, however, had sheered off from its base course well to the right when the alarm was sounded. The K continued to zigzag until all danger had passed, and duly joined the other escorts. The convoy then formed into column astern.
No submarine ambuscades awaited the third group of transports. Their voyage was quite uneventful. Apart from the probability that much of the commotion marking the passage of the first and second contingents might well have been due to groundless fears, the success of the American expedition in safely landing in France registered Germany's first defeat at the hands of the United States. It was her boast that her submarines would never permit any American army to reach its destination.
General Pershing was in Paris when the first transport contingent arrived, and immediately set out for the French port to get in touch with his troops. They were debarking in long lines when he arrived, making their way to their temporary camp, which was situated on high ground outside the town. Their debarkation signalized the actual beginning of General Pershing's command in the European theater of war of an army in being, as yet small, but composed of seasoned troops from the Mexican border and marines from Haiti and Santo Domingo, all fit and ready for immediate trench service. He had been greeted in England as America's banner bearer, was immediately received by King George on his arrival in London, while Paris accorded him, as London did, the royal welcome which a sister democracy knows how to extend to the representative of a democracy bound to the Anglo-French Entente by the grimmest of ties. The landing of the vanguard of his army disposed of further hospitalities and brought him squarely to the business in hand, which was to get his troops in the fighting zone.
A section of the French battle front for eventual occupancy by the American forces was early selected after General Pershing had inspected the ground under the guidance of the British and French military authorities. Its location, being a military secret, was not disclosed. Meantime the troops were dispatched to training bases established for affording them the fullest scope to become familiar with trench operators. The bases also included aviation, artillery, and medical camps. Further tidings of them thenceforth came from the "American Training Camp in France," wherever that was. Toward the close of July, 1917, actual intensive work was under way and pursued with an enthusiasm which warranted hopes that the troops would soon reach a stage of efficiency fitting them for the firing zone. Trenches were dug with the same spirit as that animating soldiers digging themselves in under artillery fire. The trenches were of full depth and duplicated those of certain sections of the front line, consisting of front or fire trenches, support trenches, and reserve trenches, with intricate communicating passages between them.
The marines—those handy men who apply themselves to every service in warfare, as to the manner born, whenever the occasion requires—cheerfully bent their ardent energies to spade work, which was probably a new task even for that many handed corps. Thereafter they wired themselves in their trenches behind barriers of barbed-metal entanglements.
All this intensive work was performed under conditions approximating to actual warfare. Both offensive and defensive tactics were employed, including lively sham battles with grenades, bayonets, and trench mortars. For bayonet practice dummies were constructed and the men were taught the six most vital points of attack. The troops were entertained by stories telling how the French decorated and painted their dummies to resemble the kaiser, Von Hindenburg, and other enemy notables, and each company searched its ranks for artists who could paint similar effigies.
Practice in trench warfare did not displace route marching. The hardening process in that direction continued as part of the operations. The men's packs increased in weight until they neared fifty pounds. Duly the men would be equipped with steel helmets and an extra kit, when their packs would weigh eighty pounds, like the burden carried by the British troops. Accordingly the Americans were drilled to bear this burden without undue fatigue. This was the stage American operations in France had reached by the beginning of August, 1917.
Little was disclosed regarding naval movements—beyond the activities of American destroyers, which were not only occupied in convoying transports and passenger liners through the submarine zone, but cooperated with British patrols in checking submarine destruction in other lanes of travel. The British recognized them as a formidable part of the grand Allied fleet.
As to the navy itself, its personnel was increased to 150,000 men. Where the main American fleet was—whether with the British fleet at the Orkneys, or stationed in some other zone—no event transpired to give any clue. But patrol of the South Atlantic, as well as of the American coast, was assumed by the Pacific coast fleet under Admiral Caperton, the remaining French and British warships in those waters acting under his authority.
Sea warfare conditions, outside the useful work of the American destroyers provided by the German submarines, gave little scope for naval operations, and it was assumed that the main American fleet, like the British, was lying quiescent, with its finger on the trigger, awaiting its opportunity. The Navy Department meantime busied itself arming scores of American merchant vessels to brave the submarines, and in carrying out an extensive building program, which included the construction of hundreds of submarine chasers—a new type of swift, powerfully armed small craft—as well as of many new destroyers.[Back to Contents]
PART IX—THE RUSSIAN REVOLUTION
CHAPTER LXX
FORESHADOWING REVOLUTION
Without danger of overstatement or exaggeration, it may be said that the most dramatic feature of the Great War's history during the period February-August, 1917, was the revolution in Russia. To outsiders, acquainted with Russian conditions only superficially, it was startlingly unexpected. A revolution, usually, is merely the climax of a long series of events of quiet development, the result of a long period of propaganda and preparation, based on gradually changing economic conditions. The overthrow of the Russian autocracy seems to have been an exception to this general rule—at least in part. For even to close observers nothing seemed more dead than the revolutionary organizations in Russia on the outbreak of the Great War in the summer of 1914. To be sure, when the opportunity came, they sprang into life again and were able to place themselves in control of the situation. But the great climax certainly did not come about through their conscious efforts.
For this reason a detailed description of the early revolutionary movements directed against the czar's government is not necessary to a thorough understanding of the events which so startled the world in March, 1917. The causes which brought them about originated after the outbreak of the war.
We were in the habit of describing the two great governments, that of the German Empire and that of the Russian Empire, with the word "autocracies." And in that each was, and one still is, controlled absolutely by a small group of men, responsible to nobody but themselves, this was true. Aside from that, no further comparison is possible.
The German autocracy is the result of the conscious effort of highly capable men who built and organized a system with thoughtful and intelligent deliberation. With a deep knowledge of human psychology and the conditions about them, they have guided their efforts with extreme intelligence, knowing when to grant concessions, knowing how to hold power without being oppressive.
The Russian autocracy was a survival of a former age, already growing obsolete, rarely able to adapt itself to changing conditions, blindly fighting to maintain itself in its complete integrity against them. Change of any sort was undesirable to those controlling its machinery, even though the change might indirectly benefit it. It had been crystallized in a previous epoch, even as the tenets of its church were the crystallized superstitions of a barbaric age. It was, in fact, a venerable institution which certain men wished to perpetuate not so much from self-interest as from a blind veneration for its age and traditions. To them even the interests of the people were of far less importance than the maintenance of this anachronism in its absoluteness. Where the German rulers had the intelligence to divert opposing forces and even to utilize them to their own benefit, the Russian autocrats fought them and attempted to suppress them.
The chief of those forces which oppose autocracies are, naturally, the growing intelligence of the people and the resulting knowledge of conditions in other countries which they acquire. Realizing this fact, at least, the Russian rulers were bitterly opposed to popular education and made every effort to suppress the craving of the common people for knowledge of any kind.
These facts considered, it is not surprising that the first revolutionary movements in Russia should have been generated among the educated classes, even among the aristocracy itself. As far back as a century ago a revolutionary society was formed among the young army officers who had participated in the Napoleonic Wars, and who, in their contact with the French, imbibed some of the latters' democratic ideas, though they were then fighting them. Failing in their efforts to impregnate these ideas among the czar and his ruling clique, they finally, in 1825, resorted to armed violence, with disastrous results. Nicholas I had just ascended the throne, and with furious energy he set about stamping out the disaffection which these officers had spread in his army, and for the time being he was successful.[Back to Contents]