The Navy as a Fighting Machine

by Bradley A. Fiske

It is a little difficult to make a clear picture of courage that is physical, as distinguished from courage that is moral; or moral as distinguished from physical. Courage seems to be a quality so clearly marked as to be hardly qualifiable by any adjective except an adjective indicating degree—such as "great" or "little"; but if any other adjective may be applied to it, the adjective "moral" seems to be the only one. For courage, no matter how or why displayed, is from its very essence, moral. Strictly speaking, how can there be any courage except moral courage? If a man braves death or physical suffering, the quality that enables him to brave it is certainly not physical; certainly it does not pertain to the physical body. The "first law of nature" impels him to escape or yield; and it impels him with a powerful force. If this force be not successfully resisted, the man will yield.

Now the act of resisting a temptation to escape a physical danger is due to a more or less conscious desire to preserve one's self-respect and the respect of one's fellow men; and therefore, the best way in which to train a man to be brave is to cultivate his self-respect and a desire to have the respect of his fellow men; and to foster the idea that he will lose both if he acts in a cowardly way.

Naturally, some men are more apt to be cowards as regards physical dangers than are others; and men differ greatly in this way. Men of rugged physique, dull imagination, and sluggish nerves are not so prone to fear of physical danger, especially danger far ahead in the future, as are men of delicate physique, keen imagination, and highly strung nervous system; and yet men of the latter class sometimes surpass men of the former class when the danger actually arrives—they seem to have prepared themselves for it, when men of the former class seem in a measure to be taken by surprise.

It is the attainment of physical courage, or courage to defy a threat of physical injury, that military training aims at. That it has done so successfully in the past, the history of the valiant deeds of sailors and soldiers bears superabundant witness. This courage has been brought out because it was essential. Courage is to a man what strength is to structural materials. No matter how physically strong and mentally equipped a man may be; no matter how perfectly designed and constructed an engine may be, neither the man nor the engine will "stand up to the work," unless the courage in the one case, and the strength of the materials in the other case, are adequate to the stress.

While perfect courage would enable a man to approach certain death with equanimity, all that is usually demanded of a man is that he shall dare to risk death, if need be. To do this successfully, a great assistance is a knowledge that even if things look bad, the danger is not so great as it appears. Therefore, training confronts men frequently with situations that look dangerous, but which skill and coolness can avert. In this way, the pupil becomes familiar with the face of danger, and learns that it is not so terrible as it seems. Nothing else makes a man so brave regarding a certain danger as to have met that danger successfully before. This statement must be qualified with the remark that in some cases a danger, although passed successfully, has been known to do a harm to the nervous system from which it never has recovered. This is especially the case if it was accompanied with a great and sudden noise and the evidence of great injury to others. In cases like this, the shock probably comes too abruptly to enable the man to prepare himself to receive it. The efficacy of a little preparation, even preparation lasting but a few seconds, is worthy of remark. Two theories connecting fear and trembling may be noted here: one that a person trembles because he fears; the other, and later, that trembling is automatic, and that a person fears because he trembles.

But the influence of fear is not only to tempt a man to turn his back on duty and seek safety in flight, for it affects him in many degrees short of this. Sometimes, in fact usually, it prevents the accurate operation of the mind in greater or less degree. Here again training comes to the rescue, by so habituating a man to do his work in a certain way (loading a gun for instance) that he will do it automatically, and yet correctly, when his mind is almost paralyzed for a time. A very few men are so constituted that danger is a stimulus to not only their physical but their mental functions; so that they never think quite so quickly and so clearly as when in great danger. Such men are born commanders.

Discussion of such an abstract thing as courage may seem out of place in a discussion of "Naval Strategy"; but while it is true that naval strategy is largely concerned with mental operations, while courage is a moral or spiritual quality, yet strategy concerns itself with the securing of all means to victory, and of these means courage is more important than any other one thing. One plan or one system of training may be better than another; but they differ only in degree, and if one plan fails another may be substituted; but if courage be found lacking, there is no substitute on earth. Now, if courage is to be inculcated by some system of training, surely it is not amiss to devote a few minutes to an analysis of the nature of courage, to seek what light we can get as to the best methods of training to employ.

Responsibility.—There is one form of courage which most men are never called upon to use, and that is willingness to take responsibility. Most men are never confronted with a situation requiring them to take it. To naval men, however, the necessity comes often, even to naval men in the lower grades; for they are often confronted with situations in which they can accept or evade responsibility. That courage is needed, no one can doubt who has had experience. To accept responsibility, however, is not always best either for the individual or for the cause; often it were better to lay the responsibility on higher authority, by asking for instructions. But the same remark is true of all uses of courage; it is not always best to be brave, either for the individual or for the cause. Both the individual and the cause can often be better served by Prudence than by her big brother Courage. When, however, the conditions require courage in any form, such as willingness to accept responsibility, the man in charge of the situation at the moment must use courage, or—fail. In such cases the decision rests with the man himself. He cannot shift it to another's shoulders, even if he would. Even if he decides and acts on the advice of others, the responsibility remains with him.

From the Top Down, or from the Bottom Up?—There are two directions in which to approach the subject of training the personnel—from the top down, and from the bottom up. The latter is the easier way; is it the better?

The latter is the easier way, because it is quicker and requires less knowledge. In training a turret crew in this way, for instance, one does not have to consider much outside of the turret itself. The ammunition can be sent up and down, and the guns can be loaded, pointed, and fired with just as much quickness and accuracy as is humanly practicable, without much reference to the ship itself, the fleet, or the navy. In fact, knowledge of outside requirements hinders in some ways rather than advances training of this kind. Knowledge, for instance, of the requirements of actual battle is a distinct brake on many of the activities of mere target practice.