Lieutenant-General N. A. Miles, U. S. A.
I could not but think of the contrast shown between these captured Englishmen and the Spanish officers who surrendered during the fighting in the war with Spain. They were compelled by the fortunes of war to put themselves in the keeping of the officers of a different nation, a different race; men whom they had been taught to despise and for whom they really had a bitter hatred. Yet they could not have been more courteous had they been guests instead of prisoners. Admiral Cervera and the officers of his fleet were for a time quartered at Annapolis, and later in one of the New England sea-coast towns, where they enjoyed many privileges of recreation and liberty. They met our American women each day during their term of captivity, and their conduct showed most conclusively their gentle breeding. When they came in direct meeting with any of the ladies, they raised their caps with grave respect; in many cases they were formally presented, and they invariably proved themselves the gentlemen of refinement that officers are supposed to be. When they met any of our officers, they never failed to give the military salute, showing the respect in which they held their captors, notwithstanding the bitterness in their hearts. Their demeanor, which won the admiration of all our people, was in marked contrast to that of some of the British officers towards their captors.
At the beginning of the South African War I was not without a wish that our government might have arrived at an open understanding with the British Ministry. After their gracious attitude towards us in the latter part of the Spanish-American War, it looked as though Englishmen might be sincere in their friendship. One of the titled staff officers following Lord Roberts was, to put it very mildly, exceedingly discourteous to one of the American correspondents whose papers were of considerable influence upon public sentiment. In discussing the incident with one of General French’s highest staff officers, I asked if it would not have been better had this officer been a trifle more diplomatic and, by a little courtesy, made a friend rather than an enemy of a man whose writings reached so many American readers. This officer’s answer struck the keynote of the British sentiment when he replied:
“We do not care a tuppenny damn what any American on earth thinks of us!”
Within fifteen minutes that same officer asked whether America would not stand by England in the event of a European war.
There is no doubt that the English-speaking peoples should stand together. But my recent experience at the seat of war, in London, and at other European capitals, has convinced me, against my will, that we must be slow in having faith that England is our friend. If the occasion required she would not hesitate to point her guns towards us, and her friendship would be turned to hostility in an hour. More true friendliness towards America exists in Germany or Russia to-day than in England. There is a serious fallacy in the premise that because we speak the language of England we are more closely allied to that country than to any other.
To return from the digression, the army officer of to-day, to be a complete success, must be exceedingly versatile in his accomplishments. He must not only be a careful student of the science of war, but he must also be a thorough business man. He must not only understand the tactics of attack and defense, but he must be able to tell the quality of hay and of butter. He must understand weights and measures as accurately as an ordinary shop-keeper. Real war of this day has a great deal of everything except fighting. Hundreds of men and officers go through an entire campaign and never hear a shot fired; instead, they study columns of figures, great sheets of warehouse returns, and manifold way-bills of freight shipments. They may worry over the price of wheat or the weight of live stock on the hoof, but never over bullets or bayonets. The only orders they give are written on little slips of “flimsy,” such as you see the station agent hand into the cab to the engineer just before the train pulls out. The only possible difference between this sort of an officer and a regular business man is that the officer wears a uniform and works much harder for less money.
During the Cuban campaign, and, in fact, ever since, the American officers have been called upon to perform every duty that man could do; and, greatly to their credit, they have in almost every case performed their tasks creditably. When in Havana with General Ludlow’s staff, for the first five months following the American occupation, I had an excellent opportunity to see the real worth of the American officer outside of his fighting qualities. Colonel Bliss was taken from his regiment and made Collector of the Port, and has performed the duties of that very peculiar and trying office, with raw clerks, incomparably better than it had ever been done before. Captain Charles G. Treat and Major Pitcher sat on the judicial bench and meted out justice in the police and criminal courts. Colonel Black suddenly found himself a superintendent of streets and of public works. Major Greble became the custodian of the poor. In fact, every office, from that of the governor-general down, in the entire government, was occupied by an army officer, whose performance of the new duty was more thorough and practical than could have been expected from most civilians. Not only were these officers called upon to attend to all matters of ordinary routine, but they were compelled to restore destroyed records, to delve into the land titles of the island, and to handle problems of a delicate nature which would seem to require the study of a lifetime.
