The Navy as a Fighting Machine

by Bradley A. Fiske

But the problem of how to keep reserve vessels in a state of material readiness is easier than the problem of how to keep the reserve men in a state of personnel readiness, which will insure their reporting on board of the reserve ships quickly enough and with adequate training. This problem is so difficult, and its solution is so important, that in Great Britain, France, Germany, Japan, and doubtless other navies, men are compelled to go into the reserves, and to remain in for several years after completing their periods of service in the regular navy. In this way, no breaking away from the navy occurs until after reserve service has been completed, and every man who enlists remains in the navy and is subject to its discipline until his reserve period has been passed. Thus the question of the reserve is a question that has been answered in those countries, and is therefore no longer a question in them. If battleship A in any of those countries is to be mobilized, the government knows just who are to go on board and when; and knows that every man has recently served in the regular navy, has been kept in training ever since he left it, and that he is competent to perform the duties of his allotted station in battleship A.

The problem of getting into service the ships that are to be gotten from the merchant service is more difficult, and is perhaps of more importance; that is, it is more important to get into the service some vessels from the merchant service than some reserve ships; more important, for instance, to get colliers to serve the fleet with coal than to commission some antiquated cruisers. Naturally, the number and kinds of ships that need to be provided will depend on the nature of the war—whether, for instance, a very large force is to be sent to the other side of the world, to meet a powerful fleet there, or whether a sudden attack on our Atlantic coast is to be repelled. The difference, however, is largely numerical; so that if the plans provide for a sufficient number to take part in the distant expedition, it will be easy to get the appropriate number to meet a coast attack.

To receive an attack upon the coast, however, provision must be made for vessels and men not needed on an expedition across the seas—that is, for vessels and men that will defend the coast itself from raids and similar expeditions.

The work of preparing all that part of the naval machine which in time of peace is separate from the active fleet is purely one of logistics; it is that part of the preparation which calculates what ways and means are needed, and then supplies those ways and means. Logistics, having been told by strategy what strategy plans to do, calculates how many and what kinds of vessels, men, guns, torpedoes, fuel, food, hospital service, ammunition, etc., are needed to make possible the fulfilling of those plans; and then proceeds to provide what it has calculated must be provided.

This does not mean that strategy should hold itself aloof from logistics and make arbitrary demands upon it; for such a procedure would result in making demands that logistics could not supply; or, through an underestimate of what logistics can supply, in refraining from demanding as much as could be supplied. Logistics, of course, does provide what strategy wants, in so far as it can; but in order that satisfactory results may be obtained, the fullest co-operation between strategy and logistics is essential; and to this end frequent conferences are required between the officers representing both.

The logistic work of expanding the naval forces to a war basis may evidently be divided into two parts: the adding of vessels and other craft appropriately equipped and manned to the active fleet, and the establishment of a coast-defense force, which will be distributed along the coast and divided among the most important commercial and strategic centres.

Adding to the Fleet.—Naturally, the additions to the fleet will depend on the service for which the fleet is intended; that is, on the plans of strategy. If the navy were to be gotten ready for a definite undertaking, then the additions to carry out that undertaking could be calculated and prepared; and of course this condition does come up immediately before any war occurs. But in addition to these preparations which are to be made at the last moment (many of which cannot be made until the last moment), the staff must prepare in the leisure of profound peace for several different contingencies. Inasmuch as many of the additions will be needed, no matter with what country the war may come; and inasmuch as the same general kind of additions will be made, it is clear that there must underlie all the various plans one general plan, to which modifications must be made to adapt it to special conditions. And as, no matter whether we are to take the offensive or the defensive, no matter whether the fleet is to go far away or stay near our coast, the matter of additions to it is mainly a matter of degree (whether for instance ten extra colliers are needed or a hundred), it seems clear that the general plan should be the one demanding the greatest additions, so that the modifications to adapt it to special cases would consist merely in making subtractions from it. To carry out this plan, strategy must make a sufficiently grave estimate of the situation; and logistics must make calculations to supply the most difficult demands that the estimate of the situation indicates as reasonable, and then arrange the means to provide what the calculations show. If one has provided a little more than is necessary, it is much easier to leave out something later than it is to add more, if one has not provided enough; and one's natural indolence then acts on the side of safety, since it tends to persuade one not to leave off too much; whereas in the opposite case, it tends to assure him that it is not really necessary to take the trouble to provide what it might be hard to get.

The Estimate of the Situation.—In no field of strategical work is an accurate estimate of the situation more clearly necessary than when it is to form the basis for the precise calculations of logistics. General strategical plans require a vividness of imagination and a boldness of conception that find no field for exercise in logistics; and tactics requires a quickness of decision and a forcefulness of execution that neither strategy nor logistics need; but neither strategy nor tactics calls for the mathematical exactness that logistics must have, or be of no avail. Yet there will be no use in working out the mathematically correct means to produce certain result, if the real nature of the desired result is underrated; there will be no use in working out laboriously how many ships and tons of coal and oil are needed, if the estimate of the situation, to meet which those ships and coal and oil are needed, is inadequate.

The first step, therefore, in providing for the expansion of the navy for war, is to estimate the situation correctly. The greatest difficulty in doing this arises from a species of moral cowardice, which tempts a man to underestimate its dangers, and therefore the means required to meet them. Probably no single cause of defeat in war has been so pregnant with disaster as this failure to make a sufficiently grave estimate of the situation. Sometimes the failure seems due more to carelessness than to cowardice; Napoleon's disastrous underestimate of the difficulties of his projected Russian campaign seems more due to carelessness than to cowardice; but this may be due to a difficulty of associating cowardice with Napoleon. But is it not equally difficult to associate carelessness with Napoleon? What professional calculator, what lawyer's clerk was ever more careful than Napoleon was, when dealing with problems of war? Who was ever more attentive to details, who more industrious, who more untiring? And yet Napoleon's plans for his Russian campaign were inadequate to an amazing degree, and the inadequacy was the cause of his disaster. But whether the cause was carelessness or moral cowardice on his part, the fact remains that he did not estimate the situation with sufficient care, and make due plans to meet it.

This unwillingness to look a difficult situation in the face one can see frequently in daily life. Great difficulties seem to appall some people. They hate so much to believe a disaster possible, they fear so much to let themselves or others realize that a danger is impending, they are so afraid that other people will think them "nervous," and they shrink so from recommending measures that would cause great exertions or great expenditures, that they are very prone to believe and say that there is no especial danger, and that whatever danger there may be, can be obviated by measures that are easy and cheap to carry out.