A subject upon which our Planning Section liked to speculate was the possible sortie of the German fleet. The possibility of a great naval engagement filled the minds of most naval officers; and, after we had sent five of our battleships to reinforce Admiral Beatty's fleet, this topic became even more interesting to American naval men. Would the Germans ever come out? What had they to gain or to lose by such an undertaking? What were their chances of victory? Where would the engagement be fought, and what part would the several elements of modern naval warfare play in it: mines, submarines, battle-cruisers, airplanes, dirigibles, and destroyers? These were among the questions with which the Planning Section busied itself, and this problem, like many others, they approached from the German standpoint. They placed themselves in the position of the German High Command, and peered into the Grand Fleet looking for a weakness, which, had they been Germans, they might turn to account in a general engagement. The only weak spot our Planning Section could find was one which reflected the greatest credit upon the British forces. The British commander, Admiral Sir David Beatty, was a particularly dashing and heroic fighter; could not these splendid qualities really be turned to the advantage of the Germans? That Admiral Beatty would fight at the first opportunity, and that he would run all justifiable risks, if a chance presented of defeating the German fleet, was as well known to the Germans as to ourselves. The British Admiral, it was also known, did not entertain much respect for mines and torpedoes. All navies possessed what was known as a "torpedo flag." This was an emblem which was to be displayed in case torpedoes were sighted, for the purpose of warning the ships to change course or, if necessary, to desist from an attack. It was generally reported that Admiral Beatty had ordered all these torpedo flags to be destroyed; in case he once started in pursuit of the German fleet, he proposed to take his chances, dive straight through a school of approaching torpedoes, or even to rush full speed over a mine-field, making no efforts to avoid these hidden dangers. That he would probably lose some ships the Admiral well knew, but he figured—and probably correctly—that he would certainly have enough vessels left to annihilate the enemy. Still, in the judgment of our Planning Section, Admiral Beatty's assumed attitude toward "torpedo flags" gave the Germans their only possible chance of seriously injuring the Grand Fleet. They drew up a plan of attack on the Scapa Flow forces based upon this assumption. Imagining themselves directors of the German navy, they constructed large numbers of torpedo boats, submarines, and mine-fields and stationed them in a particularly advantageous position; they then proposed to send the German fleet in the direction of Scapa Flow, draw the Grand Fleet to the attack, and then lead it in the direction of the torpedoes and mines. Probably such a scheme would never have succeeded; but it represented, in the opinion of our Planning group, Germany's only chance of crippling the Grand Fleet and winning the war. In other words, had my staff found itself in Germany's position, that is the strategy which it would probably have used. I gave this report unofficially to the British Admiralty simply because I thought it might afford British officers reading that would possibly be entertaining. It is an evidence of the co-operation that existed between the two forces, and of the British disposition to accept suggestions, that this document was immediately sent to Admiral Beatty.
II
The fact that I was able ultimately to create such an organization and leave the administration of its individual departments so largely to their respective heads was especially fortunate because it gave me time for what was perhaps the most important of my duties. This was my attendance at the meetings of the Allied Naval Council, not to mention daily conferences with various officials of the Allies. This naval council was the great headquarters for combined Allied operations against the enemy on the sea. It was not officially constituted by the Allied governments until November 29, 1917, but it had actually been in continuous operation since the beginning of the war, the heads of the Allied admiralties having met frequently in conference. At these meetings every phase of the situation was discussed, and the methods finally adopted represented the mature judgment of the Allied naval chiefs who participated in them. Without this council, and without the co-operation for which it stood, our efforts would have been so dispersed and would have so overlapped that their efficiency would have been greatly decreased. This international naval conference not only had to decide questions of naval strategy, but it also had to concern itself with a multitude of practical matters which have little interest for the public, but which are exceedingly important in war. In this struggle coal, oil, and other materials played a part almost as important as ships and men; these materials, like ships and men, were limited in quantity; and it was necessary to apportion them as deliberately and as economically as the seemingly more important munitions of warfare. The Germans were constantly changing their tactics; sometimes they would make their concentrations in a certain area; while at other times their strength would appear in another field far distant from the first. These changes made it necessary that we should in each case readjust our forces to counteract the enemy's tactics. It was a vital necessity that these readjustments should be made immediately when the enemy's changes of tactics became known. It is evident that the element necessary to success was that the earliest and most complete possible information should be followed by prompt decision and action; and it is manifest that these requirements could have been satisfied only by a council which was fully informed and which was on the spot momentarily ready to act. The Allied Naval Council responded to all these requirements. One of my first duties, after my arrival, was to attend one of these councils in Paris; and immediately afterward the meetings became much more frequent.
Not only were the proceedings interesting because of the vast importance of the issues which were discussed, but because they brought me into intimate contact with some of the ablest minds in the European navies. Over the first London councils Admiral Jellicoe presided. I have already given my first impressions of this admirable sailor; subsequent events only increased my respect for his character and abilities. An English woman once described Admiral Jellicoe as "a great gentleman"; it is a description upon which I can hardly improve. The First Lord, Sir Eric Geddes, though he was by profession an engineer and had been transferred from the business of building roads and assuring the communications behind the armies in France to become the civilian head of the British navy, acquired, in an astonishingly short time, a mastery of the details of naval administration. Sir Eric is a type of man that we like to think of as American; perhaps the fact that he had received his business training in this country, and had served an apprenticeship on the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, strengthened this impression. The habitués of the National Sporting Club in London—of whom I was one—used to look reproachfully at the giant figure of the First Lord; in their opinion he had sadly missed his calling. His mighty frame, his hard and supple muscles, his power of vigorous and rapid movement, his keen eye and his quick wit—these qualities, in the opinion of those best qualified to judge, would have made this stupendous Briton one of the greatest heavyweight prize-fighters in the annals of pugilism. With a little training I am sure that Sir Eric would even now make a creditable showing in the professional ring. However, the paths of this business man and statesman lay in other fields. After returning from America he had had a brilliant business career in England; he represented the type which we call "self-made men"; that is, he fought his way to the top without the aid of influential friends. His elevation to the Admiralty, in succession to Sir Edward Carson, was something new in British public life, for Sir Eric had never dabbled in politics, and, until the war started, he was practically unknown in political circles. But this crisis in British affairs made it necessary for the Ministry to "draft" the most capable executives in the nation, irrespective of political considerations; and Sir Eric, therefore, quite naturally found himself at the head of the navy. In a short time he had acquired a knowledge of the naval situation which enabled him to preside over an international naval council with a very complete grasp of all the problems which were presented. I have heard the great naval specialists who attended say that, had they not known the real fact, they would hardly have suspected that Sir Eric was not a naval man. We admired not only his ability to direct the course of discussion, and even to take an important part in it, but also his skill at summing up the results of the whole proceeding in a few terse and masterly phrases. In fine, the First Lord was a man after Roosevelt's heart—big, athletic, energetic, with a genius for reaching the kernel of a question and of getting things done.
When it came to facility of exposition, however, we Anglo-Saxons made a poor showing in comparison with most French naval officers and in particular with Admirals Lacaze and de Bon. Both these gentlemen represented the Gallic type in its finest aspects. After spending a few moments with Rear-Admiral Lacaze, it was easy to understand the real affection which all French naval officers felt for him. He is a small, slight man, with a grey, pointed beard, and he possesses that earnestness of spirit, that courtesy of manner, and that sympathy and charm which we regard as the finest attributes of the cultured Frenchman. Admiral Lacaze has also a genuine French facility of speech and that precision of statement which is so characteristic of the French intellect. A slight acquaintance would make one believe that Admiral Lacaze would be a model husband and father, perhaps grandfather; it was with surprise, however, that I learned that he was a bachelor, but I am sure that he is that kind of bachelor who is an uncle to all of the children of his acquaintance. As Minister of Marine he was the presiding officer of the council when it met in Paris.
In Vice-Admiral de Bon, chief of the French naval staff, Admiral Lacaze had a worthy colleague; he was really a man of heroic mould, and he certainly looked the part. His white hair and his white beard, cut square, gave at first glance an impression of age; yet his clear, pink skin, not ruffled by a trace of wrinkle, his erect figure, his bright blue eyes, the vigour of his conversation and the energy of his movements, betokened rather perpetual youth. Compared with the naval forces of Great Britain, the French navy was of inconsiderable size, but in Admiral de Bon it made a contribution to Allied naval strength which was worth many dreadnoughts. The reputation of this man has scarcely reached this side of the Atlantic; yet it was the general opinion of practically all naval men that his was the keenest mind at the Allied Naval Council. It was certainly the most persuasive in argument, and the one that had most influence in determining our conclusions. Not that there was anything about this great French sailor that was arrogant or offensively self-assertive. On the contrary, his manner was all compact of charm and courtesy. He was about the most persuasive person I have ever met. Whenever an important matter arose, there was some influence that made us turn instinctively to Admiral de Bon for enlightenment; and, when he rose to talk, the council hung upon his every word. For the man was a consummate orator. Those who understood French even slightly had little difficulty in following the Admiral, for he spoke his delightful language with a precision, a neatness of phrase, and a clearness of enunciation which made every syllable intelligible. So perfect did these speeches seem that one would have suspected that Admiral de Bon had composed them at his leisure, but this was not the case; the man apparently had only to open his mouth, and his speech spontaneously flowed forth; he never hesitated for a word. And his words were not only eloquent, but, as I have said, they were full of substance. The charm which he manifested on these public occasions he carried likewise into his domestic life. Whenever the council met in Paris the Admiral's delightful wife and daughters entertained us at luncheon—an experience which caused many of us to regret that it did not always meet in that city.
The other two members of this interesting group were Rear-Admiral Funakoshi, representing the Japanese navy, and Vice-Admiral di Revel, representing the Italian. The Japanese was also naval attaché at London, and the popularity which he had acquired in this post he also won in the larger field. In some respects, he was not like the conventional notion of a Japanese; physically he did not fulfil the accepted rôle, for he was tall and heavily built; nor was there anything about him that was "inscrutable"; the fact was that he was exceedingly frank and open, and apparently loved nothing so much as a good joke. The remark of a London newspaper that Admiral di Revel, the Italian, "unlike Admiral Sims, looks every inch the sailor," caused Admiral Funakoshi much amusement; he could not resist the temptation to chaff me about it. We all became so well acquainted that, in our lighter moments, we did not mind having a little fun at one another's expense; and in these passages the Japanese representative did not always make the poorest showing. The Italian, di Revel, was a source of continual delight. Someone remarked that he was in reality an Irishman who had escaped into Italy; and this facetious characterization was really not inapt. His shock of red hair, his reddish beard, and his short, stocky figure almost persuaded one that County Cork was his native soil. He delivered his opinions with an insistence which indicated that he entertained little doubt about their soundness; he was not particularly patient if they were called in question; yet he was so courteous, so energetic, and so entertaining that he was a general favourite. That his Government appreciated his services is shown by the fact that it made di Revel a full admiral, a rank which is rarely bestowed in Italy.
Such, then, were the men who directed the mighty forces that defeated the German submarines. The work at the councils was arduous, yet the opportunity of associating with such men in such a task is one that comes to few naval officers. They all worked with the most indomitable spirit; not one of them ever for a moment showed the slightest discouragement over a situation which was at times disquieting, to say the least; not one faltered in the determination to force the issue to the only logical end. History has given few examples of alliances that worked harmoniously. The Allied Naval Council did its full share in making harmonious the Allied effort against the submarine.