Our Navy at war

by Josephus Daniels

"I wish that I could think and had the brains to think in the terms of marine warfare," he remarked, "because I would feel then that I was figuring out the future history of the political freedom of mankind."

"We have got to throw tradition to the winds," he exclaimed, and went on to say:

Now, as I have said, gentlemen, I take it for granted that nothing that I say here will be repeated and therefore I am going to say this: Every time we have suggested anything to the British Admiralty the reply has come back that virtually amounted to this, that it had never been done that way, and I felt like saying, "Well, nothing was ever done so systematically as nothing is being done now." Therefore, I should like to see something unusual happen, something that was never done before; and inasmuch as the things that are being done to you were never done before, don't you think it is worth while to try something that was never done before against those who are doing them to you? There is no other way to win, and the whole principle of this war is the kind of thing that ought to hearten and stimulate America.

America has always boasted that she could find men to do anything. She is the prize amateur nation of the world. Germany is the prize professional nation of the world. Now, when it comes to doing new things and doing them well, I will back the amateur against the professional every time, because the professional does it out of the book and the amateur does it with his eyes open upon a new world and with a new set of circumstances. He knows so little about it that he is fool enough to try the right thing. The men that do not know the danger are the rashest men, and I have several times ventured to make this suggestion to the men about me in both arms of the service: Please leave out of your vocabulary altogether the word "prudent." Do not stop to think about what is prudent for a moment. Do the thing that is audacious to the utmost point of risk and daring, because that is exactly the thing that the other side does not understand, and you will win by the audacity of method when you cannot win by circumspection and prudence.

I think that there are willing ears to hear this in the American Navy and the American Army, because that is the kind of folks we are. We get tired of the old ways and covet the new ones.

So, gentlemen, besides coming down here to give you my personal greeting and to say how absolutely I rely on you and believe in you, I have come down here to say also that I depend on you, depend on you for brains as well as training and courage and discipline. You are doing your job admirably, the job that you have been taught to do; now let us do something that we were never taught to do and do it just as well as we are doing the older and more habitual things, and do not let anybody ever put one thought of discouragement into your minds. I do not know what is the matter with the newspapers of the United States. I suppose they have to vary the tune from time to time just to relieve their minds, but every now and then a wave of the most absurd discouragement and pessimism goes through the country and we hear nothing except of the unusual advantages and equipment and sagacity and preparation and all the other wonderful things of the German Army and Navy. My comment is always the very familiar comment, "Rats!" They are working under infinite disadvantages. They not only have no more brains than we have, but they have a different and less serviceable kind of brains than we have, if we will use the brains we have got. I am not discouraged for a moment, particularly because we have not even begun and, without saying anything in disparagement of those with whom we are associated in the war, I do expect things to begin when we begin. If they do not, American history will have changed its course; the American Army and Navy will have changed their character. There will have to come a new tradition into a service which does not do new and audacious and successful things.

A short time after the President made this declaration on his flagship, Admiral Mayo was dispatched to Europe, where he pressed upon the British Admiralty the necessity of constructing the North Sea barrage. Finally in October, six months after the plan had been presented, this great project, in line with President Wilson's idea of bold and new things in naval warfare, was undertaken.

From many quarters tips came to the President of possible surprise action and not a few orders to Naval Intelligence to send out secret service men to run down a clue were the result of suggestions emanating from the President. Sometimes, unannounced and unheralded, during the war, he would drop in at the Navy Department, and quite as often at the War Department, and he never came merely to visit, agreeable as social intercourse would have been. He had an idea every time, a practical suggestion, or a desire to be informed of progress in some particular undertaking which he was following with deep interest.

Sometimes when he dropped in unexpectedly to make a suggestion—(he had a habit of calling directions "suggestions" when speaking to a Cabinet member)—I sometimes wondered if he was not as much influenced in making his personal calls to give encouragement and support, and the helpful personal touch, as to discuss strategy or tactics or policy. Certainly these visits heartened and strengthened those of us who in trying times were charged with heavy responsibility. He knew, too, what was going on. He often surprised me by his knowledge of the comparative qualities of men he had never seen—how accurate was his appraisement, how his questioning of them showed the military leadership which few people thought the college professor possessed. He never left my office, and I never left the White House, after a conference during the war, without the reflection that the world had lost a great military leader when it gained a great educator and executive.

When we were transporting soldiers through the infested zones he was anxious, intensely interested, and read every cablegram concerning the troop-ships. When he did not come in person, in crucial days, there would come from the White House frequent memoranda written by himself on his little typewriter, asking for some information or making an illuminating suggestion, signed " W. W." Those " W. W." notes never had a spare word, and they showed the same clearness and vision which John Hay tells us Lincoln had when he would go over to see Stanton, or Gideon Welles in the dark days of Civil War.