II.
TACTICS.*
INTRODUCTION.
* Second edition of A Study of Naval Combat.
Properly speaking, this is not a book of "Tactics"; it is rather a collection of thoughts concerning battle that I have endeavored to deduce from actual occurrences. Yet the title is justified by the fact that tactics is intimately connected with battle, of which it is merely an auxiliary.
This connection has not always existed. There was a period when people fought without other rule than to hurl themselves into the fray and strike out on all sides. Those times have passed: the need was early felt of co-ordinating efforts and of striking truly without ceasing to strike hard. The time for reverting to the heroic traditions of the middle ages does not seem to have come, and we have difficulty in imagining armored squadrons charging the enemy like a troop of bisons.
Nevertheless, many officers contest the utility of a tactics, and their opinion is in part justified by the narrow sense that they attribute to the word. For them, tactics is only a formula or a formation, and they seek in vain for either in our signal code, on the faith of its official title; the efficacy of the evolutions that it contains does not appear clearly, because nowhere is the object to which they conduct pointed out.
A more precise indication can be found in the teachings of the past that we too often neglect to consult. In spite of the profound modifications that naval material has undergone in the course of a century, the lessons of the masters remain our best guide. Every battle is in fact composed of two distinct parts: one moral, the conception; the other material, the execution. If we place our dependence upon the facts alone, we quickly perceive that their variety brings doubt into the mind and leads to confusion; one would not know how to codify them to form the basis of a doctrine. Moreover, ships of the present time are not limited in their movements as the old ships were, and to seek to imitate the maneuvers of sailing fleets would be steering a wrong course.
But the facts have another bearing: they make known to us the directing thought that gave them birth and reveal to us the reason why of things. Studying them from this point of view, it is seen that the objectives pursued by great leaders have varied little and are independent, to a certain extent, of time and of weapons. The maneuvers of the field of battle had for their object to carry out an idea, generally a very simple one; they were adapted to the means available and to the special conditions of each encounter. Thus it has been possible for battles to wear different aspects without ceasing to be connected by common bonds.
It can, therefore, be said that the conception of battle remains constant throughout the ages, and that the execution yields to the double influence of time and local circumstances.
These considerations point out to us the path that we should follow in this study.
I.
HISTORY.
The Tactics of Sailing Fleets.—It was at the battle of the Texel, in 1665, that for the first time a fleet was seen fighting in order. In this battle the English fleet, commanded by the Duke of York, was drawn up in line ahead, close-hauled. This order was at once
adopted by naval powers, and took the name "line of battle."
It is known that it owed its origin to solicitude to give the ships a clear field of fire, to preserve them from being raked and to repel the attacks of fire-ships. The line of battle was the initial formation for combat.; during the action it was sought to derive from it the greatest possible advantage. Thus there was created, in each navy, a body of doctrines whose principles differed little because they had a common starting-point.
To appreciate at its true value the tactics of the seventeenth century, we must carry ourselves back to the period when it was put in force. Everything then concurred to make fleets unmanageable: they were composed of a great number of vessels;1 their captains and crews were inexperienced; signals had scarcely begun to be used. With the exception of the Knights of Malta, whom the Order loaned to the King, most of the captains were without knowledge of the sea. As for the crews, it was very difficult to complete them with sailors. Although the system of classes had been in force for several years, it is enough to go a little into the details of history to learn in what a deplorable manner it functioned, especially under Seignelay's administration. The sea-coast population preferred the merchant service to that of the King, who, since Colbert's death, had ceased to pay them. Sailors fled from the conscription, and the first come were put on board to replace them. It may be understood that with such imperfect means admirals could not expect difficult maneuvers from their vessels; their pretensions had to be limited to the execution of a few simple movements. The battle entered upon, the commander-in-chief lost control; the line, extending over a length of several kilometers, was hidden in smoke.
1 In the reign of Louis XIV squadrons counted from 70 to 'co sails.
Imperfect as this tactics appears to us to-day, it sufficed to its time. Perhaps Tourville, who inspired P. Hoste's Traite des evolutions navales, had larger views; perhaps also his ideas were not still more advanced because man instinctively subordinates his aspirations to his means.
Little by little the navy was transformed. In the reign of Louis XV, the naval academy, established at Brest, allowed giving officers the technical instruction that they had lacked till then, while the creation of evolutionary squadrons taught them the practice of maneuvering. At the same time, the multiplicity of theaters of operations, the consequence of colonial development, profoundly modified the composition of squadrons, which now rarely counted more than thirty sails.
For all these reasons, the handling of fleets became 'easier and permitted a glimpse of more extended horizons. After having submitted to the limitations imposed by a crude implement, the time seemed to have come to employ tactics in a more reasonable manner by not allowing it to fetter ideas. But nothing came of it; lack of initiative and a glorious past preserved to the line ahead the monopoly that it enjoyed. It finally came to be considered indispensable, so, true is it that habit warps the judgment and little by little causes the means to be confounded with the end.
Two circumstances, independent of one another, occurred, at twenty years interval, to consecrate this state of affairs.
At the battle of Toulon, February 22, 1744, the English Admiral Matthews attacked the allied fleet before his line of battle was formed. Following this action, the issue of which remained doubtful, Matthews was courtmartialed and dismissed. The grounds of this decision were that he had engaged without forming line of battle. Although Matthews' condemnation was due to other causes than a tactical error, the impression produced upon the minds of officers was not the less profound.2 It was not till
2 At the Battle of Minorca (May 18, 1756) Admiral Bing thought of joining the enemy at once; but, mindful of the fate of Admiral Matthews, who had been condemned for having broken his line, he dared not do the same and resigned himself to regulating his speed upon that of his slowest vessels. "You see," said he to Gardner, his fleet captain, "the signal to form line is hoisted, and I cannot, in my capacity as admiral, arrive as if I had but a single vessel to fight. That was the error of Matthews, who should have brought all his ships into action together; I wish to avoid a similar occurrence." La Marine Frangaise sous le regne de Louis XV, by Henri Riviere.
long afterwards that English admirals were able to consider themselves freed from the bondage of this judgment; then they learned that they would not be held strictly to account for their maneuvers, provided they were victorious.
In France the order of battle was established by law; it was officially imposed on the navy by the royal ordinance of March 25, 1765. Moreover, an article of the ordinance said, "No captain may leave the line during the action to help a vessel in distress unless signaled by the general to do so." The unfortunate consequences that such a rule might entail will be understood when it is considered that it was materially impossible for a squadron commander to know what was going on at the ends of the line. This article gave the order of battle a rigidity that deprived it of all strength.
In short, the tactics of the eighteenth century was very nearly the same as that of the preceding century. The sole important innovation to be found in it is the introduction of the broadside-to-broadside fighting that resulted in so many indecisive encounters.
When the War of American Independence broke out, the two opposing navies had very nearly identical tactical methods; but the spirit that, in each of them, animated the officers was completely different. The English, emboldened by the successes of the Seven Years War, sought the offensive; the French, on the contrary, still under the influence of their disasters, limited their desires and used all their skill to defeat the attempts of an enterprising enemy. Their constant anxiety was to preserve their material, even when they were superior in numbers. It cannot be denied that our admirals succeeded3 in an ungrateful task which won them fame as tacticians; but we may regret that they did not employ their talents in attack instead of defence; they would thus have impressed upon their operations a less negative character. Suffren alone, whose genius could not accommodate itself to strict rules, pursued pitilessly the enemy's destruction, and to attain his end attempted to depart from the beaten path of routine; but, misunderstood by his captains, he very soon had to fall back into it, contenting himself with carrying into action an ardor to which our adversaries were not accustomed.
3 Except at Dominica, where de Grasse presented himself to the enemy with a squadron in disorder.
After ten years of peace, the two navies found themselves again in conflict. In this short interval of time the situations had profoundly altered: on one side, a personnel eager for glory, formed in the school of war, hardened by long cruises; on the other, a material in bad condition, undisciplined crews, captains in whom a certificate of citi7enship took the place of knowledge. The issue of the struggle could not be doubtful: the battles of the 13th Prairial and Cape Saint Vincent threw a last luster upon the traditional tactics.
It was then that Nelson appeared.
Nelson's military genius was the product of circumstances. Already ripened by a long experience, having given proof of his strength at Saint Vincent and at Aboukir, he receives from Jervis a marvelously trained squadron. Affairs are then in an exceptionally grave position: Napoleon has already stricken from the map of Europe several States, and a single battle lost is sufficient to compromise England's existence. It is under the influence of this situation that Nelson, breaking away from methods which had outlived the necessities that gave them birth, frees himself from the bonds that an outworn tactics puts upon his designs; and, instead of using as best he can the instrument given him by tradition, forges a new one which will be the executer of his thought.
We know what happened.
The overwhelming results of the battle of Trafalgar marked a new era in the tactics of fleets under sail. Nelson, in fact, had put himself in formal opposition to the unalterable principles without which there seemed not to be any safety. For the classic order of battle he substitutes order in columns; he does not hesitate to break his ranks in contempt of all the rules; finally, he attacks the enemy's line at right angles, instead of approaching it by. edging up. Thus all the old scaffolding of tactics crumbled in a day, burying our navy under its debris.
Whence came then the impotence of the doctrine that had so long ruled the fleets of Europe? From the fact that it contained two germs of weakness: its starting-point was false, and it was based on a fiction.
Its starting-point was false; for, when one fights, one ought to think of attacking before seeking to defend oneself; and one ought only to defend oneself to an extent that permits the defensive to second the offensive. But the line of battle is a defensive formation; it derives its strength from the mutual assistance that the vessels afford to each other; the necessity of not leaving its position so as not to weaken the line prevents each ship from engaging freely. When the attack was awaited to leeward, the employment of the artillery was dependent upon the will of the enemy, who had to come and put himself in the field of fire of the guns. As for the squadron to windward, it carried its entire line to meet the enemy; but, even in attacking, it counted upon its formation as a defence, so that it assumed the offensive with a defensive weapon, which took away from its action a portion of its efficiency.
The line of battle, it is true, was only a method of beginning the struggle. The incidents of battle always ended by breaking its fine array when the encounter was not limited to a long-range cannonade. It became possible, then, for the one who had best succeeded in maintaining his formation, to bring about a concentration of forces; but parallel lines did not favor it; they lent themselves so ill to enveloping movements that most maneuvers of this sort were scarcely rough-outlined. Here again the strictly defensive character of the line of battle shows itself; for, if concentrations had been the principal objective, the question would have been asked whether the line was the most effective method of preparing them.
These concentrations, moreover, were the privilege of the side having the greater number. Its line then lapped over that of the adversary, and it was possible for it to make, according to the expression of that time, detachments upon the ends of the opposing line. The importance of the concentrations was, therefore, a function of the numerical difference of the opposing forces.
Trafalgar revealed the danger of awaiting attack to leeward in extended line; that battle showed, likewise, that attack from to windward, in the same formation, had caused the loss till then of all the benefit given by the offensive.
These deductions could have been foreseen; what prevented them from being apparent was that the tactics was based on a fiction.
The course of time had consecrated certain conventional principles;4 the different phases of an encounter were determined in
4 Among these we must remember the custom of reserving to the admirals the honor of engaging one another. Neither did the advantages and inconveniences of the windward and leeward positions have the importance that many have been pleased, with a great abundance of argument, to attribute to them. Never did Nelson or Suffren pay regard to this detail; all positions seemed good to them provided they could join the enemy.
advance by a tacit understanding, whose terms were faithfully observed for a century and a half. Battle was then no more than a sort of duel in which, by common consent, the adversaries were placed in a given position, after which the struggle was engaged according to the rules of the art.
The proof of how much the tactics then hindered the free play of minds is that in single-ship actions, where its influence did not make itself felt, we almost always had the better of it (at the time of the American War), even against more powerful vessels. The
French Navy then had a great nucleus of excellent officers and of trained crews (although often insufficient in numbers); the tactics nullified these elements of success.
Such a method could only give restricted results, and against an adversary himself imbued with the same prejudices. Skillful admirals could derive advantage from it, but its impotency stood out clearly on the day when Nelson, returning to the true concept of war, tore away the veil from the convention.
If we seek to analyze Nelson's mode of action, which was likewise that of Suffren,5 we observe that it did not have a single point in common with the old ways. His objective is well defined: to destroy the enemy. Every other consideration disappears before that one. To attain this end, the best method is to crush ships with superior forces, to fight two against one. Nelson, therefore, will concentrate his forces upon a fraction of those of his adversary, and he will direct his blows upon the point the most difficult to succor; he will attack the rear. But instead of waiting, as till then had been done, an opportunity to effect a partial concentration during the action, he will know how to impose one of all his forces from the beginning. These considerations determine his order of battle, or rather the order in which he will lead his vessels onto the field of battle. It will be the order in columns, which gives more flexibility to the fleet and diminishes its depth. As soon as the two columns have approached near enough for the
5 Suffren, less fortunate than his rival in glory, did not have at his disposition the instrument that would have allowed him to realize his conceptions.
role of each captain to be clearly indicated, the ranks are broken and each one hastens to his post. The perpendicular attack offered the danger of exposing the heads of columns to raking broadsides to which they could not reply, but it had the advantage of immediately making two breaches in the hostile line and of sowing disorder in it. Nelson, therefore, does not hesitate to adopt it, and he palliates the audacity of his maneuver by taking the head of the first column, while Collingwood directs the second.
Thus, after having fixed upon his object, Nelson regulates his means of action in a fashion to derive advantage from everything that can help him, and he discounts at the same time the unskillfulness of our gunners and the experience of his captains.
We have considered Nelson's maneuver at Trafalgar at such length because it shows better than any reasoning what were the defects of the tactics then in use. It would seem that after so rude a test this tactics should have been abandoned; nevertheless, it survived our disasters and only disappeared with the sailing fleets that had so long suffered from its restrictions.
It was preserved by imputing all our ills to Villeneuve, and the fate of that unhappy admiral contains a lesson that we should ponder.
The crowd is unjust. In ill fortune, it seeks always to heap upon an individual the weight of the errors that have been made, and attributes responsibility to men rather than to the times. Thus it is that Villeneuve has been reproached for incapacity and for his order of battle. Villeneuve was not an incapable. Jurien de la Graviere represents him as "the best-informed officer and the most skilful tactician that the French Navy then possessed."
He had discerned with rare sagacity his adversary's plans,6 but the weakness of his means did not permit him to take another formation than that which was imposed upon him by the regulations.
Before judging Villeneuve, we should put ourselves in his place and recollect that events, fortunate or unfortunate, are less the accomplishment of men than of the ideas they reflect. There
6 He (Nelson) will not confine himself," said he to his officers, "to forming line of battle parallel to our own and coming to engage in an artillery contest with us . . . . He will seek to envelope our rear, to break through us, to bring against those of our vessels that he has cut off groups of his to surround them and overcome them" (Jurien de la Graviere).
are few incapable officers; there may be many whose judgment is warped by a defective orientation. Each one participates in the weaknesses of his time; men of genius alone know how to throw them off.7
The Tactics of Auxiliary Steam Vessels.—With steam appeared vessels with auxiliary steam power that differed but little from sailing vessels in respect to armament.
The freedom of movement that was the consequence of the use of a motor independent of the wind gave birth to rectangular evolutions; but the order of battle was not modified.
Auxiliary steam vessels not having undergone the test of battle, it is difficult to know the advantage that might have been derived from the new evolutions on the field of action. We will confine ourselves to the statement that their use was limited to the maintenance of a single order of battle, and that they seem to have been conceived particularly with a view to meeting the requirements of cruising.
The Tactics of Rams.—When the cuirass and the ram made their simultaneous appearance, the gun was passing through a period of neglect. Taken unawares by armor plating, it was powerless against the rams that the War of Secession had brought into vogue. The eclipse of the gun could only be momentary: the cuirass has to be spread out, while the gun concentrates its whole force upon a single point. The thickness of the cuirass is, therefore, limited; practically the power of the gun is not, and it is this difference that characterizes in a general way passive defence and attack. The ram, nevertheless, became the principal weapon of ships, and it was necessary to create a tactics appropriate to its use. Then it was that it was agreed to prescribe the line abreast and its derivatives. The order of battle proceeded quite naturally from the application to rams of the same reasoning that was formerly applied to sailing ships: the ram's weapon is its prow; they will, therefore, present themselves bows on to the enemy: its weak point is the flank; they will, therefore, be arranged in the order that will permit them to protect each other, that is side by side. Whence the line abreast.
7 ”I have neither the means nor the time," cried Villeneuve in his discouragement, "to adopt another tactics, with the commanders to whom the ships of the two navies have been entrusted."
Constructed with the same materials as the line ahead that it replaced, the line abreast had the same peculiarity: it was a defensive formation.
By imprisoning each ship between two body guards, its movements were paralyzed and the freedom of motion so necessary for full use of the ram was taken away from it. The attack bows on served much more to protect against blows than to give them; the offensive would have consisted in forcing the enemy to present his broadsides, without which impact is replaced by an ineffective grazing.
That it is necessary to present the bow at the moment of contact, there can be no doubt whatever; but that is not a reason for adopting an extended formation, it is even the best means of depriving oneself of a part of one's rams if the enemy has a more compact front. In fact, when ships are restricted to advancing on the same course and in one line, each ship that attacks finds but a single adversary facing it. The width of the line can, therefore, without disadvantage be diminished in order to increase its depth, which leads to attack in columns. In this manner, several rams are opposed successively to a single one.8
Finally, if the columns are brought near to each other, we have Admiral Bouet-Willaumez's naval square, which is essentially favorable to changes of front and can advance upon the enemy's line so as to pierce it at the most suitable point.
The naval square represents not only a concentration of rams in
8 With weapons of short range, a line never covers but a limited space in front of it. If it is desired to make a frontal attack upon it with another line, equal forces can be opposed to it, never superior forces, whether with soldiers armed with guns, with ships armed with cannon or with armored rams. To secure superiority, it is necessary to neglect a part of the hostile line and to employ the forces thus made available to reinforce the others, in a manner to furnish them with a support whose elements take the place of those that fail. This is the arrangement in depth as opposed to that in width. The second is the one instinctively assumed, because, as von der Goltz says, there is an irresistible tendency to extend fronts; the first is that taken by great leaders. Nelson's maneuver at Trafalgar is an arrangement in depth.
Long-range weapons that reach the reserves before they come into action modify their disposition without affecting its principle.
On the sea, with present-day artillery, the deep formation cannot be utilized. It is necessary to seek to obtain in another form the advantages that it gave.
a restricted space, but in itself it exercises a moral pressure on the enemy. The part of the line that is threatened by superior forces tends to hold back from a disastrous shock and to disrupt. The vessels that are about to support alone the weight of the attack seek to shelter themselves behind the others; in this movement they expose themselves and present their broadsides. This formation, therefore, constitutes an offensive order of battle, and if there were to be only one such, it would be much more attractive than the line abreast that seemed to be obligatory. It should be noted that the naval square did not appear in the official tactics. Admiral Bouet-Willaumez doubtless thought it dangerous to expose his plans in advance. He contented himself with introducing it into his battle memorandum.
Oblique movements formed the complement of ramming tactics. Their origin still holds to the principle that one ought to present the bow to the enemy. That is evident; it is not the less so that the ram is a weapon of contact the orientation of which matters little at a distance. If, in order to limit oneself to facing forward, the duration of movements is increased, there is danger of falling into the ranks of the enemy in the act of forming. That is what would have inevitably happened with oblique movements that had the double inconvenience of gaining ground forward and requiring a very long time. One of the indispensable conditions that a battle formation ought to fulfill is to be completed at the moment when there is need of it. Oblique evolutions gave a small chance of realizing this condition and they were more theoretical than practical.
In short, the tactics of rams, although very different in form from the tactics of ships under sail, was the same at bottom. It derived from the same conventional principles; it was based on a defective order of battle.
What will modern tactics be? The introduction of torpedoes into the armament of fighting ships soon brought the ram into discredit. Accidents in cruising proved, moreover, that this weapon was not without danger for the one who used it.
In disappearing, ramming tactics left us a heritage: it bequeathed to us oblique evolutions. But these do not constitute a doctrine.
What then will the tactics of future contests be?
II.
THE OBJECT OF BATTLE.
To determine in what way one ought to fight, it is necessary first to specify the object that is sought in fighting.
That object is the destruction of the enemy.
It is not useless, though one might be tempted to think it so, to saturate ourselves with this principle which ought to guide all the actions of our professional lives. It has long been overlooked in the French Navy; it is still so despite the precautions that are taken to hide the true meaning of words under specious theories.
We know that there was a period when armies pretended to wage wars without fighting: battle was not sought, it was submitted to with regret. This period coincided with the War of American Independence, and the false ideas then current had their after effect on the navy. The latter was so much the more disposed to accept them because after the experiences of the inauspicious reign of Louis XV it dreaded to contend with an always victorious adversary.
Since the necessity was not recognized of getting rid of the enemy, of suppressing him, the dominant solicitude was to withdraw from an encounter with the least possible damage. Actions were only half-way entered upon; were fought out of effective range of the guns; then were desisted from without any harm having been done. Apart from the battle of Dominica, there is not a single action of the American War in which a vessel was captured.9 It was sought before all else to spare the material; that was accomplished, but France let escape the opportunity of a brilliant revenge.
Indecisive battles are fruitless. Historians furnish us with the proof of this when they enter upon long discussions to determine which was the victor; they neglect this demonstration when they speak of Aboukir or Trafalgar.
It would be inexact to assert that all the combats that were not disasters for the vanquished produced no result; but it can be
9 I speak of squadron actions and not of those between single ships.
maintained that moral victories, which leave the adversary intact, have only consequences of little importance and of little duration. From the fact that the vanquished is left able to reappear on the field of battle, he is given the possibility of reconquering what he has lost and the victor keeps for himself the care of preventing him from doing so. In reading history, we perceive that the fruits of victories would have been multiplied tenfold if, each time that circumstances permitted facing a contest with chances of success, it had been pushed to the extreme limit of human strength.
Here are two examples of this:
In the month of December, 1778, the Count d'Estaing contented himself, in spite of Suffren's observations, with exchanging a few shots with Rear-Admiral Barrington's division, moored at St. Lucia in the bight of Cul-de-sac. The disproportion of forces was immense; the English had only seven ships, we had nineteen. A few days later Byron made his junction with Barrington. If d'Estaing had seriously engaged, he would have destroyed the English squadron and would have remained master of the West Indian seas for a year (see on this subject Suffren's letter to d'Estaing).
In the month of February, 1781, Suffren attacked with twelve ships the English squadron, which was composed of only nine. Deserted by his captains, he was unable to destroy it as he had hoped to do. The result was that the numerical superiority of the French in the East Indies was not maintained, and that in his last action off Cuddalore, in June, 1783, Suffren could only oppose fifteen ships to the eighteen of Admiral Hughes. He was the victor, none the less, but what labors would have been avoided if, two years before, the English had suffered a disaster.
We have chosen these two examples among many because the disproportion of forces made victory the more easy.
Annihilation of the enemy is one of the general laws of war; it derives from the very essence of war, from its definition. It is a necessity that is still more imperative on the sea than on land. On land, the ground plays a part; its possession directly influences operations. One fights to dislodge the enemy, and it may happen that the victor is more used up than the vanquished, because he is forced to expose himself more. On the sea, conditions are different; the field of battle is a common ground that has no value; the ocean is so vast that one cannot think of taking possession of it, and remains master of it only by suppressing whoever occupies it.
It ought to be superfluous to demonstrate the obligation of destroying the enemy after a century of wars has shown the consequences of battles pushed to the utmost. Nevertheless, the theory of mitigated combat has survived in the French Navy. One does not go so far as to assert that it is necessary to avoid doing harm to the enemy; but, what comes to the same thing, it is currently stated that, in a war in which we shall have inferiority of numbers, we ought to be sparing of material and to keep on the defensive.
To spare material, to keep on the defernsive! What do these two expressions mean? It is worth while to come to an understanding on this subject so as not to base a whole system of fighting upon meaningless formulae.
The advocates of guarding material are obsessed by the numerical insufficiency of our navy. They think that, even as victors, we shall suffer losses that we shall be unable to replace and that it will become impossible to continue the struggle for lack of vessels to carry it on with.
This assertion is not confirmed by facts.
In an action, losses only begin from the moment when one side gives way. So long as victory remains in doubt, it is always difficult to encroach upon an adversary who defends himself vigorously, because his fire protects him. But as soon as the balance inclines to one side, the morale of the vanquished is affected; he no longer resists strongly and soon yields himself without defence to the blows of the victor, who redoubles his efforts. It is then that events thicken and major injuries are inflicted.10 Thus is explained how it has been possible to win battles at little cost, even with numerical inferiority.
The true protection of material is victory.
If this fact is lost sight of, compensation is sought in the defensive.
10 The solicitude to refit a vessel after an action in which it has not suffered major damages would be less great if our armament, less various and more simple of operation, was interchangeable. The material ought to conform to the necessities of war, and not to the fantasies of lovers of novelties.
Does it constitute an efficient means of protecting material? What advantages does it procure?
And first, what is the defensive in the matter of tactics?
On land, we easily conceive it. It is easily seen that it is to the interest of an army, in order to compensate for its inferiority, to place itself in a position chosen in advance whence the enemy, arrested by natural obstacles, will not be able to dislodge it without exposing himself. But on the sea, on the common level of the waves, there is no other protection than the artificial one formed by armor plating. But the fighting ship is only a compromise; to increase its protection it will be necessary to melt the steel of the guns to make armor of them. The enemy then benefits by all the shell that are intentionally made a sacrifice of; so that one's material is only spared by sparing that of the enemy to an equal extent.
Is that what is asked of the defensive? We do not think so. We believe rather that this word (which expresses an idea and not a fact) is often used from habit without too much understanding of what it means. For the defensive exists, but in a sense quite different from that which is often ascribed to it without defining the advantages that it gives. When a squadron finds itself in a bad position with relation to the enemy, it ought to renounce every enterprise until it has disengaged itself; it will be on the defensive.11 That is a position that is accepted, but is never sought; it always implies a critical situation.12
11 It is in this sense that we shall understand the defensive, when we have occasion to speak of it.
12 Nevertheless, in sailing fleets, the defensive existed in an advantageous form, though during a very short time. The squadron that received the attack to leeward took a defensive position in the sense that the enemy was obliged, in order to get within range of the guns, to endure raking broadsides to which he could not reply. The defensive resulted from the fact that the enemy was forced to expose himself and to pass through a critical moment during which he was inferior. Captain Mahan asserts that the French had the habit, after having submitted to the first onset, of bearing up again and reforming to leeward, in order to induce the assailant several times to renew a dangerous maneuver. In spite of all our admiration for the illustrious American author, we believe this assertion is not justified. Such a procedure is not disclosed either in the reports of the chiefs of squadrons or in the recitals of French historians; it does not seem at any rate to have been established as a system. On the other hand, it would only have had disappointing results, for the lee squadron would have been obliged, in bearing up, to expose itself to raking broadsides from the stern. The leeward line, moreover, was always enveloped in smoke, and it would have been impossible to make it execute movements whose only value depended on their being made together. We believe that Mr. Lullier, an ex-naval officer, is the only one who has sustained this thesis.
It would be ungracious to challenge Mr. Lullier's testimony upon the ground that he has been transported to New Caledonia. His essay on tactics, on the contrary, is very learned; it abounds in original suggestions; but the author was gifted with an unbridled imagination that filled up the vacancies which every recital of a battle inevitably contains when one wishes to find in it arguments to sustain a personal opinion.
The defensive is a deceptive word behind which one shelters himself to resolve a problem that seems insoluble: that of numerical inferiority. But we must make up our minds to it and look things in the face; we shall not supplement numbers by hiding our heads so as not to see, as the ostriches do; let us rather count upon the value that we shall know how to give to our personnel.13
There are not two ways of fighting, there is only one: it is necessary to seek to destroy the enemy. That is the aim; tactics is the means.
13 To seek to fill the place of military virtues by words is not a wholly modern procedure. In 1794, Jean-Bon Saint-Andre said in the tribune of the Convention, "Our sailors, disdaining learned evolutions from a spirit of reflection and calculation, would probably judge it more suitable and useful to attempt those boarding contests in which the Frenchman was always victorious and thus to astonish Europe by prodigies of valor." Jean-Bon Saint Andre knew very well the precarious state of our navy, but he was doubtless ignorant of the fact that it is much more difficult to maneuver for boarding than to keep one's station in a line. After the battle of 13 Prairial, he had abandoned his system; but as the line had been very badly maintained by incapable captains, he thought that he would remedy everything again by phrases. He caused it to be decreed "that no captain shall suffer the line to be broken. If the enemy maneuvered to cut it ahead or astern of him, he should maneuver to prevent it, and he should let himself be run foul of rather than suffer it. The captain of a ship at the station of which the line is cut shall be punished with death."
A good captain is worth more than a bad decree.
III.
ARMAMENT.
War is a work of destruction. It may be deplored, but it is so. The result is that it is weapons that in the end always have the last word. After having defined the object of battle, we shall now inquire what assistance can rightfully be expected from armament in general and from each arm in particular.
Armament.—The perfection of armament is one of the most important factors of success. Against an adversary who through conservatism has neglected to keep himself abreast of the latest improvements, a superiority of armament is equivalent to numerical superiority.
In general, an old-fashioned material corresponds to a rather low level of moral worth on the part of the personnel; it is only military nations, solicitious of maintaining their rank, that closely follow progress.
To-day, when Europe is the general purveyor of all other countries, so far as weapons of war are concerned, powers of the second rank and semi-civilized nations often possess an armament as perfect as our own; it is even sometimes superior, because rising navies only adopt new material with its latest improvements, while old navies are encumbered with the ancient material that they cannot discard without weakening themselves. The advantage remains none the less with the latter; for it is not enough to have good weapons, it is necessary to know how to use them. Well, there are scarcely four or five countries that are rich enough to keep squadrons constantly fitted out and to take upon themselves the sacrifices necessary for the instruction of the personnel. Moreover, modern arms require such complicated agencies that it is necessary to have the use of special instruments and skillful workmanship to assure their functioning. Without these, all those delicate mechanisms end by going wrong and getting out of order little by little.14
14 The fragility and complication of armament are less the result of the power of weapons than of an error in principle that is the consequence of a long naval peace. When the handling of guns is made dependent upon the delivery of water under pressure through a long system of piping, and when the light artillery is supplied by electric ammunition hoists that are a marvel of ingenuity, it is not asked whether the breakdowns that occur daily will not take place during action. There is no proof that the same efficiency would not have been obtained with more rudimentary and stronger means, if simplicity had been made an indispensable condition of every military organism. The fact that whenever the excess of this evil has brought about a partial reaction it has not taken long to find a solution, would tend to prove the contrary. It is curious, for example, that hand loading has been returned to in order to obtain a greater rapidity of fire, and that the substitution of a simple gear-wheel for the control-valve of a hydraulic ram has increased the precision of pointing.
The arms used by the principal maritime nations are generally of about the same power. In a period of transformation such as that which we are passing through, there may always come a moment when one country is in advance of the rest; this lead lasts but a short time, and it is rarely so important that armament becomes the arbiter of battles.15 It is, therefore, prudent not to go asleep in a false security when one is strongly armed.
If there is no very sensible difference between the weapons of maritime nations, the same is not true of the manner of using them that bears the imprint of the character of each people.
Our national genius impels us to seek new means rather than to perfect those that we have. In all epochs it has been so, and this natural tendency of our race makes itself most violently felt each time that we are passing through a critical period, whether from the point of view of organization or from that of number. We seek then an expedient that, at a single blow, may restore the balance in our favor.
The English, on the contrary, make advances more slowly, but more methodically. They have not that flight of imagination that proceeds by leaps and always seeks the elegant solution. They improve what they have slowly, but they take account, to a larger extent than we do, of the conditions of war.
Our intellectual activity is an element of strength on condition that we know how to direct it into the proper channels.
War has exigencies to which all weapons are not fitted to adjust
15 It has been said that Sadowa was the triumph of the needle gun. It would be more correct to say that the victory was due to the excellence of the Prussian troops, and that the slight superiority of their armament was only the consequence of a better preparation for war. In 1870 we had a gun superior to that of the Germans; we were beaten, none the less.
themselves to the same degree; their management does not always lend itself to the necessities of the battlefield.
This is a point of view that must be considered and that was neglected when, under the first Republic, the use of hot shot was introduced on board ships. It was thought that a crushing superiority would thus be secured; a system that kept up on board a perpetual focus of fire and was dangerous only to ourselves soon had to be abandoned.
In these days, with torpedo-boats, we have fallen into an excess of a different kind, but having the same origin. People were intoxicated when they saw little vessels that cost scarcely a few hundred thousands of francs carry within them sufficient power to sink an armorclad costing thirty millions. A certain number of officers immediately demanded the suppression of the latter; yet, in the beginning, torpedo-boats were only able to attack within a restricted area and in calm weather. These conditions, which left a large margin for the enterprises of big ships, were of a nature to limit the action of torpedo-boats to special cases, and did not permit their general use. Since then, there has been a recovery from unreasoned infatuation; it is not the less true that these exaggerations have had an unfortunate reaction upon our constructions; and there are actually still not lacking people who imagine that the torpedo-boat, a night bird, will put our coasts out of reach of a day operation, such as a bombardment.16
We could easily point out errors of the same sort apropos of submarines.
It is indispensable to regard weapons under two different aspects that bring out clearly their advantages and their disadvantages.
The for and the against are thus determined. The for comprises the amount of destructive power and the efficiency; the against is represented by the difficulties of execution and of functioning.17
By applying these elements of appreciation to the various weapons that are in service or have been tried, we learn that weapons are more difficult to manage in proportion as they are more powerful. Thus monster cannon of 100 tons weight
16 Mobility, that is to say ability to move great distances and in all weathers, is one of the factors of war. Torpedo-boats only possess this quality within a narrow limit and in special weather.
17 The public, for its part, sees only the favorable side of things. That is the explanation of its not understanding the opposition of technical men to its views.
are terrible engines: a single one of their shell, striking a ship normally at the water-line, may cause her to sink; but the very size of such pieces diminishes their efficiency, because it entails great slowness of fire without increasing the very small chance that a projectile has of striking at an exact point. So the torpedo-boat derives its strength from its speed and its invisibility; but these two qualities render difficult the employment of its sole means of action, the torpedo: the torpedo-boat commander who rushes through the night upon a shapeless mass estimates the distance badly, is ignorant of the speed and often even of the direction of movement of the target that he proposes to strike. If we add to all this the erratic action of the torpedo, we perceive that an aggregate of fortunate circumstances will be necessary in order that a torpedo, launched under such conditions, may attain the mark.
The advantage that can be derived from each instrument of combat will be determined from the data of experience; each of them will then be given a development in proportion to the services that it can render, and will be placed in such a way as to secure its advantages.18
Why does the cannon, that ancient instrument, maintain itself in spite of the assaults of more powerful engines? Because it is admirably adapted to the necessities of war. The opposite reason has brought about the disappearance of the fire-ships that had a certain analogy with our first torpedo-boats: on account of their small tonnage, they became a greater and greater embarrassment to fleets in proportion as the latter increased their mobility and radius of action. Moreover, they were only really effective against vessels at anchor, and it was further necessary that the wind should be favorable for their attack. The conditions that permitted bringing fire-ships into the theater of operations, and obtaining favorable circumstances for their use, occurred so rarely that little by little they were given up.
Nevertheless, they never disappeared completely. Instead of being a permanent weapon, as in the seventeenth century, they no
18 If all new inventions met an established need, few deceptions would be experienced; but it is not at all so: numerous inventors seek to pass off upon us the products of their imaginations without troubling themselves as to the use that can be made of them; it is for us to derive advantage from them as we may. We are here speaking not only of weapons, but of all the mechanisms that gravitate about them.
longer appear except in certain particular operations that afford them special chances of success.19 It may even be questioned whether it was not the abandonment of fire-ships that permitted bringing them into use again on rare occasions, since their absence from the ordinary composition of squadrons led to the neglect of the very simple precautions that would paralyze their action, and gave the idea of resuscitating a weapon the memory of which was almost effaced.
In fact, when a destructive engine has proved its effectiveness, precautions are taken against the dangers it presents and one often succeeds, if not in rendering it impotent, at least in taking from it the chance of doing harm. The weapon then depreciates little by little and tends to disappear. The fact is thus lost sight of that, even in in action, it interfered with the enemy's plans by forbidding to him certain operations that only become possible again when it has disappeared. There are weapons that never 'serve directly: such is the bayonet. Scarcely two or three examples can be cited of troops engaging with the bayonet; generally one side gives way before contact takes place; but that is no reason for doing away with the weapon of assault.
We will sum up this long discourse by saying that it is necessary always to be perfecting one's armament: the sharper an instrument, the better it cuts; but it would be imprudent to count upon a superiority so difficult to secure to the extent of making it the basis of our tactical ideas. If the advantage is in our favor, we shall always profit by it; and the gain that we derive from it will be so much the more considerable that, not having taken account of it in our plans, we shall not have neglected to develop in ourselves the warlike spirit that ought to choose and to direct weapons, and not to let itself be enslaved by them. This principle will stand out more clearly from the study of different weapons. These weapons are: the gun, the torpedo and the ram.
The Gun.—When an artillery combat is spoken of, what is generally meant is a long-range contest in which the object sought is to put in line the greatest possible number of guns. It is, in fact, a method of utilizing all one's means of action. In this order of ideas the open column, perpendicular to the line that joins the centers of the two forces, is certainly a rational formation.20 The
19 The Island of Aix affair; the War of Greek Independence.
20 Essai de tactique navale (Coustolle).
enemy being free to maneuver (since a long distance is maintained) is likewise led to deploy so as to unmask his guns. Thenceforth the combat reduces itself to an intense cannonade; it has thus a great analogy with the actions in two parallel lines that make up nine-tenths of naval chronology. We can, therefore, take them for examples, in spite of the difference of ships and guns, because the relative situation of the combatants remains the same.
This sort of combat has been tested: it is unproductive. Never has the enemy been annihilated when the action has been limited to opposing guns to guns. Fruitful battles have been those in which the symmetry of positions disappeared, and the advantage has not shown itself until this has happened.
This result is easily explained: what is sought, above all, is to secure superiority, and deployment only gives it if numerical superiority is already possessed or if the enemy commits errors, for example if he allows himself to be enfiladed. If it were necessary to renounce a decisive action, or to resign oneself to be beaten, whenever inferior in number, the prospect would be far from consoling. Fortunately, examples to the contrary authorize us to have higher aims, and other examples show us that, except in special cases where there was an overwhelming disparity of forces, having the most guns is not enough to assure the victory. Number is undoubtedly the most valuable of auxiliaries, but it is not the only one and it is needful to know how to make use of it. The most judicious use that can be made of it consists of deploying all one's means, while preventing the enemy from doing likewise, which implies the necessity of imposing one's will upon him. Well, the artillery combat does not permit paralyzing the adversary's movements; it leaves him free to move as he wishes. One can be victor, therefore, only if the enemy contributes to his own loss by the errors he makes. It is a very risky method; not that an error is not possible, but that it is not certain and can quickly be repaired. If it is good to profit by an advantage, it is better to give rise to one.
Modern artillery, with its vast field of fire and its long range, facilitates concentrations. Here there is a new element that will give to combats in parallel lines a character that they did not formerly have. Yet it does not seem that in general any great benefit can be derived from it, since the hostile vessels that are neglected while concentrating one's fire upon others will fire with so much the more precision as they are the less disturbed. Concentrations of fire used momentarily will help to prepare an ulterior maneuver; this may be an incident of combat, but will not be the combat itself.
Furthermore, a battle is not won without developing to their extreme limit all the factors that assure success in it. In the conflict of artillery, the responsibility rests almost entirely upon the gunners; the command, the influence of which has always been preponderant, plays a part reduced to small importance; the role of the captains is insignificant. The tactics of the gun does not suit us, therefore.
This assertion will appear monstrous. I shall be told that it is in flagrant contradiction with facts; that in the latest wars, and particularly in the Russo-Japanese War, the gun did everything; that it is, therefore, the gun that is truly the arbiter of battles.
Such is my real conviction; but in Nelson's time they fought only with the gun. Will it be asserted that Nelson's tactics, which we have already analyzed, was a tactics of the gun? When one has at his disposal but a single weapon, it is with that alone that he will be able to inflict losses upon the enemy; but it does not necessarily follow from this that the command will be guided by the exclusive idea that the gun is its sole means of action.
Doubtless we are no longer in the period of Nelson and one must know how to be of one's own time. I accept this point of view and I take for the basis of discussion the two great battles of the Russo-Japanese War: the battles of August to and of Tsushima.
Yes, on the day of August 10 the tactics of the gun did predominate. What a spectacle that combat offers to us! Two parallel lines that exchange shots at very great distances; damages none of which would be sufficient to sink, or even to disable a vessel; killed and wounded so few in number that we have had the right to say that never was battle less sanguinary.21 Although the Japanese were victors, it was not in consequence of successive advantages gained by mere superiority of gun-fire. Victory declared itself all at once in consequence of the dispersion of the Russian squadron, and at the moment when the Japanese admiral asked himself how the affair was going to turn out.
21 For the details of this action see La Lutte pour l'empire de la mer, Chap. II.
No, it was not the gun that won the victory that day; it was the morale of the Japanese.
Tsushima? It is well known that, at the beginning of this memorable battle, the Russians perceived the Japanese on the port hand, standing to the southwest as though to pass the Russian columns on a parallel course; then all at once the leading vessel was seen to turn to port and the others to follow in succession. If Togo had wished to practice exclusively the tactics of the gun, he would have been obliged to forego .this initial maneuver; for, during several minutes, the gun-fire was interfered with and, at the same time, the Japanese vessels had to pass successively through the concentrated fire of the Russians.
Commander Semenoff, in his note-book, remarks that this maneuver caused great surprise on board the Souvarof and was taken to augur well for the day. Yet it had a part in giving the Japanese victory since its consequence was the capping of the Russian columns, followed by the immediate putting out of action of their two leading vessels and finally by the throwing into disorder of their ranks. After which, Togo endeavored constantly to outflank the Russian line, the tail of which could not take part in the action on account of its length. That is to say, Togo deployed all his means while preventing the enemy from doing the same. The application of this principle has no connection with the nature of the weapons; and the Russo-Japanese War does not modify our opinion as to the insufficiency of the tactics of the gun.
Yet it must be conceded to the latter that it can give victory when one is greatly superior to the adversary in accuracy and rapidity of fire, since by their means double or triple power is secured with an equal number of guns. But generally it is difficult to take into account the enemy's lack of training; since it is only after the battle, and by results attained, that this is ascertained.
The Ram.—The exploits of the ram are sufficiently numerous to allow a determination of the degree of importance that ought to be accorded to combat by ramming.
If we pass in review the battles in which the ram has played a part, we are struck by the fact that, save with very rare exceptions, the attack of rams has succeeded only against vessels at anchor or in a disabled state. Between ships free to maneuver, the game of ramming usually ends in a scraping. To justify this assertion, it is enough to go back to the wars of Secession and of South America, which furnish numerous examples; and to study moreparticularly the battle of Mobile Bay and the fight between the Cochrane and the Huascar.
To study a ramming contest between two vessels, it is customary to take a pair of dividers and to trace the circles in which the ships are made to move. When the two moving points meet at an intersection of circles, the problem is solved.
This whole process goes to pieces before one simple consideration: until the last moment it cannot be told which will be the rammer and which the rammed. All depends on the relative speeds, and each vessel is free to change its own speed at will without the other being able to perceive it.
A commander who has decision and quick judgment will use the ram, if a favorable occasion arises suddenly; but the maneuver could not be made by all the ships of a squadron in common.
Things happened so at a time when one could expect to sink a ship by ramming without being oneself dragged down with her. Recent occurrences prove that actually the rammer runs risks almost as great as the rammed. It is more than ever necessary, therefore, only to use the ram against a stationary ship so as only to strike her with almost no velocity. The ram is an occasional weapon that cannot enter into plans of battle; it is utilized when opportunity offers.
And Lissa? it will be objected.
Is it really true that it was the ram that decided the fate of the action at Lissa?
Let us examine the facts. The Italians lost two vessels: the Pal estro, set on fire by shell ; the Re d'Italia, sunk by the Ferdinand Max. The ram's contribution to the day's gain was, therefore, only 50 per cent; it was even less, if it is true that the Re d'Italia had had her rudder broken by a shot. Yet Tegethoff had made his arrangements and conducted the combat with a view to favoring exclusively the action of the ram; and Persano, furthermore, made his task easy by presenting his broadsides. In spite of all, but a single blow reached its mark; such is the balance sheet of a numerous squadron, led by an energetic chief, in which each did his duty.
Was the victory not rather due to the fact that the Austrian fleet presented itself concentrated before an extended line and pierced it? The Italian squadron, cut in two, had then no other object left but to reunite its fragments; it thus abandoned its principal objective, which was to oppose the enemy, and gave itself up without defence. Thus the ram, by determining a compact formation, was the indirect cause of the victory; it was not its principal cause. Tegethoff had made it his principal weapon because his guns were powerless against the armor of the Italian ships; but the results were not proportionate to the worth of the Austrian admiral; the weapon was not flexible enough to enable him to use it as he wished. What it is customary to call the tactics of the ram can have nothing to do with the actual collision. It is only in tactical studies thaf two hostile squadrons advance one against the other in line abreast to fight with the ram. If this ever really happened, it is more than probable that one of the two would maneuver before the collision to escape it. It is thus that things happen in cavalry charges; never, never does the collision occur; the less determined turns back the first.
The admiral who shall have the supreme audacity to advance upon the enemy in compact formation will perhaps be thought by posterity to have wished to fight with the ram, when he will only have sought to throw the ranks of his adversary into disorder by forcing him to maneuver under threat of a general collision.
Looked at from this point of view, combat with the ram is a struggle between two characters.
The Torpedo.—Until these latter years, launching tubes being unprotected, torpedoes could be classed in the category of engines that are as dangerous for those who use them as for those against whom they are directed. The introduction of under-water tubes has improved this sorry situation, but it has accentuated a fault that already existed to a less degree; on account of lack of train, a torpedo cannot be launched without exposure to being oneself torpedoed. This outlook is far from attractive. So long as there is no certainty that the enemy is incapable of using his own torpedoes, one will hesitate to use a weapon that enjoys the benefit of reciprocity. The nearer one is to gaining his end, the more willingly will he neglect such a weapon; the moment of winning a victory is not the time to risk losing its fruits.
During the Russo-Japanese War anxiety not to get inside the field of action of torpedoes is evident on both sides; so the torpedo played no part as far as ships were concerned. At Tsushima the Japanese fired some sixty of them, but the distance was too great for them to be able to reach the mark.
This negative result has created in the French Navy a current of opinion favorable to the suppression of torpedoes on battleships particularly among the constructors, who are hampered in their plans by the considerable space required for the installation of under-water tubes.
The suppression of torpedoes would be an irreparable error; it would place the French Navy in a state of absolute inferiority as compared with other naval powers.
The torpedo has played no part because each feared to be torpedoed; not to expose oneself to the attack of hostile torpedoes, one had to give up launching one's own. If we 'Frenchmen shall suppress torpedoes on board our battleships, our adversaries will no longer have to fear being torpedoed; and at the same time they will be in possession of a powerful weapon against which we will remain without defence because we will not be able to reply to its blows. The tactics of the enemy will then consist of bringing his torpedoes into action, and he will do so with so much the less danger that he will not thus deprive himself of his other means. He will endeavor to draw near; and we, not to be torpedoed, will have to withdraw and thereby put ourselves in a bad position. We will find ourselves in the same situation as an army in which the bayonet has been suppressed under pretext that hand-to-hand fighting will never take place.
The suppression of torpedoes would place us under the control of the enemy on the field of battle: the fight would be lost morally before there was any material loss.
And if other navies should kindly deprive themselves of their torpedoes, it would be needful to keep from following their example.
For some years past efforts have been made to increase greatly the radius of action of torpedoes, to which formerly but a secondary importance was attached. It is, therefore, necessary to watch attentively not to be left behind; for a sensible difference in the range of torpedoes favors the one who has the benefit of the greater range because he can hit his adversary without exposing himself to being hit.
Why are our ships not fitted with a bow tube? Firing right ahead permits torpedoing with the least chance of being torpedoed. Broadside torpedoes are defensive weapons that forbid approaching a ship within a fixed limit; the bow torpedo alone is offensive.
IV.
MASS.
Seeking, among the weapons at our disposal, the one that will give us superiority over the enemy, we have renounced the tactics of the gun because it gives no marked advantage, the ram because it is dangerous for those who make use of it, and the torpedo because it is unreliable. We are thus brought to repudiate the system that transforms battle into a methodical contest beginning with the gun, continuing with the torpedo and ending with the ram. Moreover, if we accept this division into sections, we shall run into insurmountable difficulties of execution, since the maneuvers that it would be necessary to make are easier to define than to accomplish. To what extent will ships be in condition to maneuver with the damages that are the consequence of the first phase of the combat (much the longer one) ?
These damages will not be negligible, since one is not to pass to the second phase unless the first has been ineffectual, which implies that one has had the worst of it in the artillery combat.
There is here something to make us reflect, and we must drive from our minds the image of a battlefield where maneuvers can be performed as they are on a field of exercise. Let us take care also not to repeat, in the application of this system, the error of the old tactics that never took account of the adversary's movements; for it is evident that this systematic aspect can only be given to battle with the enemy's concurrence.
If we wish to find the true fighting weapon, we must seek it in a study of ancient battlefields and not ask it of speculative theories.
Two conceptions dominate the innumerable battles fought on land and on sea.
The first, which has served as guide in the great majority of encounters, consists in putting in line all the forces available and distributing them uniformly in face of the enemy in such a manner as to produce a balance. This way of acting is natural, one may, even say instinctive; it leads to the line ahead for artillery and to the line abreast for the ram.
At first sight it seems as if it ought to give the most considerable results, since the maximum effort is made everywhere; in practice it gives none, because everywhere the means are insufficient. Numerical superiority, when one possesses it, is equally distributed and does not suffice to assure an appreciable advantage.
The second conception is totally different; it has only been put into effect by the masters of the art of war. For them the object is not to utilize forces in a reasoned-out fashion, and to give them a systematic distribution that ought to meet all possible eventualities; their object is to make use of material forces to shatter the moral force of the enemy and to profit by his moral depression to strike decisive blows.
Thus battle is no longer subjected to the application of fixed rules; it takes the turn that is impressed upon it by a controlling idea which varies according to the circumstances, because it draws inspiration solely from the situation. The method is the same on land as on the sea; and, to characterize it, we will cite an example that appears to us to illustrate it particularly well.
On June 14, 1807, Napoleon encountered the Russians at Friedland. The hostile army was deployed along the Alle, with the river at its back; four bridges secured its line of retreat and put it in communication through Friedland with its reserves, which remained on the other side. From the plateau of Posthnen, the Emperor sees the situation and immediately he no longer has but one idea, a single one: to seize hold of the bridges. He then forms a column which he puts under Ney's orders, and he launches it to the assault of the bridges. For all else he has no thought or care; Oudinot, whose grenadiers are with difficulty holding in check the line of hostile skirmishers, sends officer after officer to him seeking reinforcement; he pays no attention. Why? Because he knows that the crux of the situation is solely at Friedland and that from the instant that the Russians are cut off from the town they will give up; and the event proves that he was right.
In all Napoleon's maneuvers we find this same solicitude to put pressure on the enemy's morale rather than to fight him methodically; and as his thought is always correct he is always victorious. When conditions do not favor this tactics, the struggle is longer, more bitter; it is, above all, more sanguinary.
On the sea, where the arena does not offer the same resources as on land, the psychological side of battles is less apparent; it exists, none the less. The efficacy of the maneuver that consisted in cutting the line derived much more from moral than from material causes. Ships, quite like men, have need while they fight of feeling themselves supported. Breaking the line destroyed cohesion in the squadron; the ships, instead of clinging to a hostile ship to fight broadside to broadside with her, were dominated by anxiety to renew the bond that had just been broken, even if— what was still more serious—they did not consider the game to be definitely lost. In either case the enemy took advantage of it to concentrate upon one of the segments of the line, which succumbed under the weight of superior forces.
Nelson's maneuver at Aboukir and at Trafalgar did not have for its only consequence the production of an irresistible material effect; the moral effect appears clearly in the evasions of Decres and of Dumanoir, who hesitate so much that they remain outside the action.
It will be said that all this is very possible, but that times have changed. To-day there can be no cutting the line nor any attack upon one of its extremities that depends for its success upon the difficulties of maneuvering under sail. Evidently we do not clearly discern what can be done because war is an art and inspiration comes only to the artist. We must not draw the conclusion that nothing can be done. If everybody had had the idea of the Austerlitz maneuver, it would have been ineffective and nothing would differentiate Napoleon from the most obscure of his generals. Moreover, it would be difficult to specify; since there are as many particular cases as battles, and each time the data vary. We can, therefore, only lay down guiding principles the application of which will vary according to the special circumstances at each encounter.
These principles can be summed up as follows:
To destroy the enemy's cohesion, to demoralize him, to incite him to give up the struggle by abandoning the stakes: such is the aim.
To realize these different objectives there is needed an instrument of irresistible strength, certain in its action. It is mass or concentration of forces.22
This is the arm of victory.
Materially, mass annihilates every defense at the place where it is brought to bear; morally, it takes away from those who support its weight every chance of resisting; well, troops that fight without hope defend themselves badly.
It does not act without method; it utilizes all the elements of which it is made up for the best interests of the moment, taking advantage of all the opportunities that are born of circumstances, by bringing into action all its weapons according to the immediate needs. It does not detract at all from the importance of armament since it derives its strength from the accumulation of a great number of weapons at a single point.
Variable in its form, mass adapts itself to all combinations, and it is this that makes it the 'arbiter of battles; however powerful a weapon may be, its efficiency is limited; when all one's' guns have been put in line, the maximum of what they can give will have been attained; man's intelligence, on the contrary, has inexhaustible resources, and mass is the sole weapon that he can dominate.
To subordinate tactics to the logical employment of weapons is to confine it to a rigid formula that the enemy can use with as much success as we; well, battles are not won by formulae, but by great captains?23
Therefore, let us profit from the lessons given us by men who knew war better than we do; let us remember that the tactics of weapons ought to be subordinated to the tactics of masses.24
22 It is necessary to establish henceforth a distinction between a concentration of forces and a concentration of fire. A concentration of fire only becomes a concentration of forces in the case when the portion of the hostile forces that is neglected can take no part in the action. Then there results a superiority that otherwise would be doubtful.
23 The difference of the two methods is easy to perceive. In the former, one fights so as to utilize his weapons; in the latter, one utilizes his weapons so as to fight. In the one, it is sought, above all, to have everything properly in order; the formation is independent of the enemy. In the other, the dominant solicitude is thirst to destroy the enemy and the means of succeeding in doing so.
24 Nelson fought three great battles: Aboukir, Copenhagen and Trafalgar. At Copenhagen alone the local conditions did not allow him to bring about a concentration of forces; so, by his own avowal, that battle was the most murderous of the three, and he got out of it only by the help of a hardly honorable expedient.
During the whole period of the wars of the Revolution and Empire, the English were greatly superior to us in gunnery. The abstract of losses, drawn up by Commander Chevalier, shows an enormous disproportion. Despite the initial advantage that thereby accrued to the English, Nelson did not think he ought to oppose ship to ship. There is here an indication that should not be overlooked. It brings out the fact that, to reduce a ship, there are needed first means proportionate to her defensive strength; then, if this ship defends itself with its offensive weapons, other supplementary means must be added; that is, there must be numerical superiority. When there is equality in other respects (as in single-ship actions) victory depends on moral factors.
V.
BATTLE RANGE.
Before going further, we must elucidate a question that would be constantly arising if we did not settle it at the start: What is battle range?
The preceding considerations furnish us with the answer.
We can deduce from what has been said that the gun is a permanent weapon, while the ram and the torpedo are only occasional weapons. The gun will, therefore, fix the range within the zone in which distance affords protection from the accidental hit of a torpedo. With this reservation, the range regulates itself—it should be that which will permit reducing the enemy most rapidly by giving the artillery its maximum efficiency.
Heaven defend us from here entering into the domain of the gunnery officer; but we do not think we are departing from a wise reticence in affirming that, at very great ranges, the regulation of gun fire is a problem that does not admit of an absolute solution, especially under the conditions which will surround it on the field of battle. The object sought in requiring the guns to fire at the target at great distances is to secure an initial superiority, and that is right. By laboring to solve this difficult problem in the most satisfactory manner, the gunners perform their part in the common work; but the general law of battle is not thereby altered. The commander, in fact, does not have to concern himself with methods of firing; he has only to observe its effects and weigh its results. He looks, therefore, and he sees that, everything else being equal, the number of hits diminishes as the distance increases. Since what is wanted is to subjugate the enemy, he is inevitably led to adopt the range at which there will be the least possible number of shots thrown away. The sole anxiety of the commander will be to place himself, in relation to the aggregate of hostile forces, in such a position that, having a great superiority of fire over one part of the enemy's ships, he may be sheltered from the fire of the rest. Accuracy of fire will be none the less valuable; during the period of approach it will occasion damages from which a lasting advantage will be derived; throughout the action it will make itself felt continuously, and in proportion as the range diminishes will permit specifying the objects to be aimed at on each ship. To increase the distance with the idea of profiting by a better firing method would be making the fate of the battle depend upon a doubtful speculation; in any event, it would be taking one advantage at the cost of another of greater value that consists of not wasting one's ammunition. It is not a question of exhibiting the skill of our gunners when face to face with the enemy; it is sufficient that the commander, who controls, shall so order the battle as to profit by that skill.
Nevertheless, a strong current of opinion manifests itself in favor of fighting at very great range. It has been especially advocated with the object of affording protection to lightly-armored ships against perforating hits. By adding to distance the precaution to present oneself obliquely to the attack of projectiles, an almost absolute protection is theoretically secured. As may be seen, we find ourselves again confronted with a defensive system (at every step we come up against the defensive), and if we have not mentioned it before it is because it is denied to be such.
Let us discuss the two arguments upon which it depends: distance and obliquity of impacts.
We willingly admit that distance is an efficient protection; but it has the grave inconvenience of being more advantageous for the one who submits to it than for the one who imposes it, when the anxiety of the latter is to avoid dangerous blows. In fact, oppose to each other two ships unequally armored and of comparable displacements, the Massena and the Kaiser Friedrich III for example. The former is less well armed, but better protected; the economies of weight that have been made in the armor of the latter have been expended on her battery. It is the latter, therefore, according to the theory under discussion, that should seek action at long range. She will obtain it without doubt, thanks to her superior speed. At the chosen distance the Massena's shell will be powerless against the hull of the Kaiser Friedrich III; that is what is gained. But then the shell of the Kaiser Friedrich III will be still less efficient against the Massena's hull. How could it be otherwise since on the one hand, the latter has Is cm. more armor, and on the other, the distance that separates the Kaiser Friedrich III from the Massena is exactly the same as that which separates the Massena, from the Kaiser Friedrich III. On which side is the advantage? On neither side. We see very well what the Kaiser Friedrich III will gain, but what the Massena will lose is not apparent. The two ships are in the situation of two fencers placed out of reach of each other's foils; they will not do any serious damage to one another and they will empty their magazines to no purpose. Which proves once more that in order to do harm to an adversary it is necessary to strike him and not to be content with looking awry at him.
If the Kaiser Friedrich III really wants to fight, she ought to approach near enough to break through the Massena's protection; she will then enter the circle of vulnerability to her opponent before the latter is vulnerable to her. Long range is, therefore, clearly unfavorable for her, and she is brought to an impasse. She can only get out of it by crossing as quickly as possible the danger zone in which she is exposed to receiving mortal wounds without being able to give them, and by fighting at close range. Paradoxical as this method of procedure may appear, it is the only one that affords good chances of success because it is, the one that permits the Kaiser Friedrich III to use to advantage her superior battery. And as it so often happens in war, this bold solution is also the most prudent, since intensity of fire is a veritable protection; it extinguishes the enemy's fire, while armor, which cannot be put everywhere, only imperfectly wards off the hits. Evidently, the Kaiser Friedrich III's superiority of fire will not instantly dismount the Massena's guns, but all the hits will count and they will produce the effect of a handful of sand thrown into one's face: the pointers will be confused, their fire will become uncertain; before they have recovered their coolness the hail of iron will have done its work. Thus the superiority will accentuate itself little by little and end in the total extinguishment of the enemy's fire, if, as we shall see further on, the combat is not sooner over.25
In the two battles of Cavite and Santiago, the American ships could have done without any armor because, from the beginning of the action, they had superiority of fire. Of course we must not conclude that armor is useless, because it is not always so easy to
25 If being the less protected were sufficient excuse for not closing with the enemy, there never would be an assault.
paralyze the enemy's fire; but it may be said that armor is only really useful during the critical period when the balance rests in suspense.
As for the advantage of obliquity of hits, it only has an absolute value if the enemy is unable himself to use the same system of protection. Well, not only will he be able to make use of this questionable aid, but he will be led to present himself to the projectiles at the same angle as his adversary from the mere fast that he will take the most favorable route for approaching.
We have considered the case of two ships of the same displacement in which one weak element was compensated by the development of another. It may equally well happen that an armored vessel has to fight a ship that is inferior both in armament26 and in protection. This kind of ship exists; it has a name: it is called an armored cruiser. The battle problem can then be examined in every way and from all sides: it is insoluble. And truly, looking at the matter closely, there can be no doubt about it. If the armored cruiser has guns too weak, by construction, to pierce the armor of battleships; if, moreover, she is too little protected to expose herself to the blows of the latter within limits where her own battery is powerless, it is not apparent how any range whatsoever can modify this state of affairs.
The insufficiency of the armored cruiser does not come from the ship itself, but from its comparison with more powerful ships. Since other nations have adopted a type of fighting ship, we are obliged to follow the movement, just as the adoption of a new model of rifle determines a general modification of the infantry armament of all Europe. The armored cruiser is only good against her likes; except in this particular case, it is necessary to employ them on special services. The Suffren and Jeanne d'Arc are of the same displacement. What could the second do against the first? Be sunk. She would enter the fight without any hope of piercing the Suffren's armored walls; on the other hand, she would not be free from anxiety about her own.
In the first edition of this study, in 1902, we added: "The question of the use of armored cruisers will come to the front the day when, in default of battleships, it becomes necessary to put
26 We understand inferiority of armament here to mean inferior power of guns.
them in the line of battle. History teaches us, in fact, that when one is numerically the inferior he turns everything to account." Certainly we did not think then that it would be Japan that would confirm this forecast. The eight armored cruisers that this nation had at its disposal during the war were constantly put in line with battleships. Two of them served to bring up to six the number of armored ships in the first squadron; the other six formed a second squadron that, at Tsushima, fought in the wake of the battleships. It would have been better, therefore, to have had battleships. In a similar case, France will be obliged to do what Japan did.
***
The theory of long-range fighting came into the world with the sound of the guns of the Yalu. It was noted that the protected cruisers of the Japanese had beaten the Chinese squadron; immediately the conclusion was drawn that: 1st, battleships were good for nothing, since they had been defeated; 2d, it was necessary to fight at long range, since the Japanese had done so with such success. At first sight this opinion seems defensible, but it does not stand examination because it rests on a false basis. The Chinese fleet, in fact, was not a squadron of battleships; it was a squadron that included two battleships?27 A part was taken for the whole, and upon this verbal error a legend has been built up.
This is what happened:
Admiral Ito keeps systematically at a distance to protect his coast-defence ships that have no side armor. He forgot that the only distance that can effectively protect ships devoid of protection is one which puts them out of reach of gun fire.
The Matsushima makes a trial of it, and a single shell puts her out of action. On the other hand, two Chinese vessels are sunk, and that at the precise moment when, in consequence of incidents of the battle, the two squadrons find themselves close together.28
Soon the Japanese have only the two battleships facing them. The Japanese squadron had at this moment an undoubted superiority in gun power, doubled by a great superiority in accuracy and rapidity of gun fire. Nevertheless, under the hail of shell
27 After the two 7500-ton battleships, the two strongest ships were the King-Yuen and Lai-Yuen, of 2850 tons each. It is difficult to make these latter pass for real fighting ships.
28 The Chih-I'ven was sunk by a raking shot at point-blank range.
that beats upon them, the battleships stand their ground and fire back feebly. They hold so well that the Japanese end by abandoning the field of battle.
May we not suppose that, if the latter, reuniting their forces, had approached boldly so as to land all their shots on the target, they would have taken or sunk the two battleships? The distance did not permit them to use their heavy guns to advantage and made them lose the greater part of their projectiles. Finally they had to withdraw for lack of ammunition. Without doubt a close action would have occasioned more considerable damages to them, but, on the other hand, the results would have been more important. And since when are battles won without receiving blows? Is it not pursuing a chimera to pretend to do harm to the enemy without exposing oneself? Would it not have been more profitable to catch a few more projectiles and to render unnecessary the Wei-hai-Wei expedition, which was the complement of the Yalu and required sending 24,000 men in mid-winter?
Let us have the courage to tell the truth: the origin of the theory of fighting at long range is bound up with the feeling that impels us always to place ourselves at the limit of vulnerability to weapons; as the lack of reason of this is vaguely felt, arguments are sought to justify it to ourselves (these are terribly like the old discussions relative to the advantages and disadvantages of the windward and leeward positions). The fate of battles is thus made to depend upon small tricks, and the true principles of warfare, which depend on the intelligent valor of the combatants are forgotten.
We must distrust ourselves and let ourselves be guided by reason, not by instinct.
If we really wish to fight, to do harm to the enemy, we must fight at effective range. It is reasonable that the fighting ranges of to-day should be greater than they formerly were: as the range of guns increases, the precision of means of pointing increases proportionally, and the distance that can be considered the most deadly becomes greater. The fighting range is likewise a function of the radius of action of torpedoes, which will surely before very long reach several thousand meters. With these reservations, there is no a priori reason for seeking very great fighting ranges. It would even be dangerous to fix a limit within which one ought not to allow himself to be approached. Such an obligation would necessitate maneuvering under the enemy's fire, which ought always to be avoided in order not to derange the fire control; and it would lead to fighting in retreat. When battle is engaged it is necessary .to accommodate oneself to the range, whatever it may be. If it is thought not to be a good range, there will be consolation in the thought that the enemy is no better off.
Let us observe, moreover, that the appearance of a great seaman upon the scene has always been marked by a shortening of ranges. The reason is very simple: he who wishes the end wishes the means.
We are unanimous in admiring the fiery ardor with which Suffren precipitated himself upon the enemy, seeming to say to his captains: Come and seek for me. Our admiration is not alone on account of the disdain of shot that Suffren exhibited; we feel that his line of conduct was the only one that could lead him to his ends—the annihilation of the English East Indian squadron. We perceive clearly the immense results that he would have attained if his captains had followed him, and we are grateful to him for the lustre that he has shed upon our arms. Yet, as soon as we put ourselves in the same situation as his, we seek to escape the solution; we deceive ourselves by specious arguments. Naturally we thus arrive at a diametrically opposite conclusion. It all comes from a lack of moral courage;29 there are in life many situations in which we knowingly adopt the worst part; in acting thus we obey 'a natural sentiment that impels us always to put off the critical moment, even at the cost of letting our situation grow worse. It is human. We see the immediate effort; we shrink from it and hope that a chance occurrence will deliver us from the complications that we see less clearly because they are further removed.30
The eternal compromise upon which a navy is built (and which results from the nature of its medium) pursues us onto the field
29 The reference here is to moral and not to physical courage. The latter, in France, is rarely lacking, but it is often blind and not suitable for a chief of squadron, who ought beyond anything else to conserve his clearness of thought.
30 Cruising affords us daily examples of this state of mind. Influenced by the weather, the gathering sea, dangers that surround, we refrain from entering a difficult passage, stand out to sea and put ourselves in a critical situation for several days, enduring the tempest without knowing where we are. An effort of will would have sufficed to gain the port in a few hours of battle. It offers only two advantages, number and energy. Number is mass. Energy is battle at efficient range. The rest is but sophistry. Moreover, moral ascendency cannot be taken at 8000 meters distance; to impose one's will upon the enemy it is necessary to have him in one's power, and to force him to choose between two equally bad solutions, surrender or flight.
Battle at long range, therefore, ought not to be sought, though one may be obliged to submit to it. It will then offer chances of success on condition that one persists in approaching. The enemy will thus be obliged to withdraw to maintain the distance, and it will inevitably result that the chaser will fight on the bow, while the chased will fire on the quarter of the opposite side. Besides that these relative positions usually give superior fire to the one that fires forward, they offer .the special advantage of making any ship that an injury forces to slow down, even momentarily, fall into the chaser's hands. The fire of the heavy guns will then be concentrated on a part of the enemy's ships to create breaches ahead; the last ships will be chosen by preference, or those that are far from the admiral, because the latter will not perceive at once accidents that take place at a distance. The chase will then be forced to accept close action or to abandon his laggards to certain loss.
In short, long-range battle is an equitable distribution between attack and defence; it gives to one what it takes from the other. Well, it is not so that war is made: one attacks or one defends himself. In the former case, one employs all his offensive means, which leads to drawing near; in the latter case, one develops all his defensive means, which leads to flight. It is so at least that things happen at sea, where there are no natural obstacles; for as far as the artificial protection given by armor is concerned, that canno.t be altered at one's will, it is what it is. If we seek to render it more efficient by distance, the adversary's protection is increased by an equivalent amount. War is compelled to submit to compromises in things, but it does not put up with half-way measures in deeds.
A linear distance cannot advantageously be made to take the place of the vigor and dash of attack.
VI.
THE ORDER OF BATTLE AND POSITION FOR FIGHTING.
One does not fight without order; whence it naturally results that there is an order of battle. At least this is an opinion that is held to be an axiom.
In order to adopt an order we have only the difficulty of choice. From long ago this question has been endlessly discussed. Some accept nothing but the line ahead, which is manageable and requires no signals; others advocate the line of bearing, which gives a clear field of fire and permits maneuvering by simultaneous movements; still others hold to triangular formations. Each extols the advantages of the order of his choice and dwells with complaisance upon the difficulties of others. All seem to be right, and the arguments that are developed are all the more convincing because no one takes account of what the enemy will do.
If from theory we pass to practice, we see that at the battle of the Yalu the line ahead defeated the double echelon; but, on the other hand, the double echelon beat the line ahead at Lissa. Going still further back, we come upon an even stranger state of affairs: on several occasions the vanquished had an order in which he felt full confidence, and no trace of one is to be found on the side of the victor, who broke his ranks even before getting within gunshot.
Where lies the truth? For if line ahead suited Admiral Ito, he was right to adopt it; and Tegethoff, who preferred double echelon, was not wrong.
Nevertheless, without wronging the victors, we may remark that the line ahead is sometimes dangerous, since it made the tail of the Japanese squadron fall into the midst of the Chinese ships, and that the Austrian double echelon would perhaps not have been so advantageous if the Italians, after having concentrated, had presented their bows in any formation whatsoever. The formations adopted in the two special cases of which we are speaking were, therefore, appropriate to the circumstances, but their efficacy is not absolute. Which amounts to saying that the order of battle has no proper value; it has value only for that which it is desired to do with it.31 Like tactics in general, of which it is one of the elements, the formation should only be the instrument of a will; this will pursues an objective; .the order of battle is for the purpose of realizing it. Were the commander to subordinate his designs to the employment of a more or less attractive formation, he would become its slave and no longer have full liberty to do what he wished.
The sole advantage of the order of battle is to furnish a solution to him who, not knowing what to do, falls back upon official prescriptions.
On the other hand, the enemy has liberty of movement so long as he has not been immobilized by an attack driven home. In our ignorance of the fashion in which he will present himself, is it not to be feared that a fixed order will betray us, if the enemy is unskilful enough to disconcert our previsions?
In short, the order is of less importance than the relative positions of the combatants; for the fine array of a squadron does not constitute a force by itself. From the obligation of establishing a connection between the respective positions of the two sides, we draw the conclusion that it matters little to have an order of battle; every effort ought to be exerted to give one's forces a favorable position for fighting. Moreover, an order is always more or less defensive, since it is determined by the position of ships relative to one another and not in relation to the enemy.
The order of battle has had its glorious days. When two adversaries employ the same means, one of them, none the less, is victor, even though, as we have already said, the line ahead has occasioned many indecisive encounters. And so we have not to inquire whether one order is better than another, but whether more importance should not be attributed to the position ships occupy in relation to the enemy than to the order in which they are arranged.
31 Example : If the admiral wishes to draw away from or approach the enemy, line ahead is unsuitable; the necessity of having the last ship follow in the wake of the first amounts to a diminution of speed; simultaneous movements are then preferable. On the contrary, the line ahead is favorable for enveloping movements, if one is skillful enough to clear the tail of the line. At short intervals, therefore, the admiral may be led to make use of either line ahead or simultaneous movements.
The first fleets of sailing ships adopted a crescent as the order of battle. Why the crescent rather than the line or any other formation, it is hard to say. All that is known is that this order came from galleys, and sailing ships seized upon it without any particular reason, doubtless because it existed; the same as later auxiliary steam vessels adopted the line ahead of fleets under sail. It was in this order that the Invincible Armada withstood the English attack. The English fleet was less numerous and very heterogeneous. Under the menace of an invasion that threatened to overthrow her rule, Queen Elizabeth had assembled all the ships that could be found, war vessels, merchant vessels, longboats. With such diverse forces, Lord Howard could not think of adopting any order whatever. It was England's safety; for Howard employed a very much more efficient method, and, renouncing order, he had no other object than concentrating his efforts on the weak points of the enemy. He threw Drake and Seymour upon the two horns of the Spanish crescent. Attacked by superior forces, the wings gave way and threw themselves in disorder upon the center, where an inextricable confusion soon reigned. Chaos ensued; the Invincible Armada ceased to exist.
In consequence of this disaster, the prestige of the crescent formation went to pieces and it was heard of no more.32 But it appears that at this period the cause of the English victory was not clearly perceived and it was attributed rather to the weakness of the formation than to the disposition the English admiral had given his forces; for, during more than a century, naval battles are only confused melees. In the midst of this chaos fire-ships made havoc; penetrating into the melee, under cover of the smoke, they fell with impunity upon hostile ships that were imprisoned on all sides and could not avoid them. It also happened that fire-ships burned up friends as well as foes. Then the disadvantage of lack of order was taken account of and a formation was again adopted that was the line ahead.
During the whole of its reign, there were from time to time found admirals who sought a fighting position in order to crush a part of the enemy's forces, but, in attempting to gain their ends
32 It would be More exact to say that it was no longer employed; for it is found still mentioned in the Hydrographie of P. Fournier, in the 17th century.
by means of learned evolutions so as not to break their order, they disclosed their projects and facilitated the counter movement. We find a fighting position clearly characterized only in the cases of Suffren and Nelson, for whom the formation is merely a means, anterior to the battle, of holding their forces in hand so as to throw them subsequently upon the enemy in a determined position.
We know the virtues that are attributed to the permanent maintenance of the formation; it is desired that the commander have his forces constantly in hand to direct them at his will. This is an ideal that appears impossible of realization during the whole of the battle. It is too often forgotten "that it is easier to let loose the tempest than to guide it" ; so that the role of the chief of squadron will consist principally in distributing his forces; after which he will be obliged to let them act. Materially, the ships will seem to escape from his control in so far as beautiful general maneuvers are concerned; morally, his action will make itself felt much more powerfully than could the ready made phrases of a signal, if he has known how to instil into each captain the line of conduct he ought to follow. "The leader's guiding thought hovers over the field of battle."33
The object to pursue is, therefore, to distribute one's forces in such a manner as to hurl them in a mass upon the weak points of the enemy, to strike him a deadly blow at the very start. To attain this object it is not necessary to have an order; it suffices to maneuver with order.
A fighting position much sought after in the old navy was one that brought a part of the enemy's vessels between two fires. There were several reasons for this: a ship attacked on each side could not make use of all her guns on account of lack of men; shot entering through the ports took effect upon the gun's crews on the opposite side; finally, the arc of train of the guns was too restricted to enable two vessels to concentrate their fire on the same target and on the same side. To-day the position between two fires allows the use of a certain number of guns that can fire only on one broadside; the protection of guns in casemates or closed turrets does away with hits from behind; finally two vessels that engaged a third on opposite sides would risk receiving each other's shots. It seems preferable, therefore, when an extremity can be
33 Jurien de la Graviere.
attacked with superior forces, to arrange one's ships in two perpendicular lines. The right-angled formation, however, is not imperative; in reality it suffices that the fighting position embrace the enemy's formation, while leaving one of his sides disengaged.
In all that precedes we have assumed that the enemy has preserved his order. It has often happened that even before the battle ,has been entered upon he has found himself divided into several fractions. There should be no hesitation then in interposing in the passage that he leaves open. The position between two fires is thus deliberately assumed; but if we have not found it worth while to put the enemy's ships in this position, that is a reason for seeking it for our own. There is, nevertheless, a certain prepossession against engaging on both sides on account of the moral effect produced by it. This effect depends much upon the distance; it will not be the same for a vessel closely engaged as for one fighting at long range. Moreover, one can find himself between two fires without being at an equal distance from each of them. Furthermore, there are in war situations whose consequences differ according to the state of mind that animates each side. This peculiarity is brought clearly out by two movements that are frequently employed, one of which consists in turning the enemy and the other in cutting through him. In the latter case one seeks the position in which in the former case it is wished to put the enemy. Yet it cannot be denied that each mode of action has its raison d'être, and the explanation is that on one side the maneuver is willed, while on the other side it is submitted to. War maneuvers have value only through the spirit that directs them and permeates the combatants. If this consideration is not taken into account, criticism goes astray.
If, then, advantage is taken of the dispersion of the hostile forces to separate them definitely, the maneuver, being intentional, has no evil consequences from the moral point of view, and it enables bringing into play a certain number of guns that would otherwise remain idle. All one's efforts should then be directed against .the principal body; by attacking the weaker fraction (which there is a tendency to do), the main body is given opportunity to come to the rescue. On the contrary, if the portion that finds itself let alone is too inferior to think of maintaining itself in the vicinity of the hostile forces, it will begin, first of all, by drawing off. If the affair is compromised, it will definitely quit the battle field; if victory remains doubtful, it will endeavor to rejoin by a long detour. There will, therefore, be time to reduce the main body.
At the battle of the Yalu, the Chinese forces found themselves split up from the beginning. Admiral Ito likewise divided his own; and this maneuver does not seems to have had any apparent advantages.34
There exists a method, when the enemy does not give any hold upon himself, of obliging him to divide his forces: it is to pass through him. We will not dwell upon this because it is supposed that the ram and torpedo make such an operation impracticable.
It would be well not to be too sure about this. Nothing proves that a column, taken on the flank by a compact force, will not open to give it passage from the mere fact of the pressure that the mass will exert at a point. Nevertheless, there is an uncertainty here that a responsible leader alone can clear up.
34 See, on the subject of the division of forces, Jervis' maneuver at Saint- Vincent, which is a model example.
VII.
THE PERIOD OF APPROACH.
The ground having been cleared, we can now pass on to the different phases of the actual battle. We are thus brought to consider, first of all, the period of approach, which lasts from the getting into touch until the moment when battle position has been taken.
Most of those who have studied naval questions have attributed to this phase an importance that would make it out to be the battle itself. Current ideas upon this subject may be summed up in the following manner: when a naval force meets the enemy, it will begin by exchanging some preliminary passes with him for the purpose of feeling his strength; the contest will continue thus until, a beginning of superiority having been acquired, a definite advantage is sought by engaging fully.
This theory is so wide-spread that we even find it applied to the attack of coast batteries.35 It arises from an anxiety to be able to withdraw in time, or not to engage except on a certainty.
If this method of procedure realizes the object that is in view, there is no reason for not adopting it ; 'if it does not, it must be repudiated, because it can lead to a result diametrically opposite to the one that is sought.
To elucidate this question, we have to consider two eventualities: the engagement turns against us, and we withdraw; or it is favorable to us, and we take a step forward.
35 Here is what may be read in a work entitled: Des Operations maritimes contre let cotes et des debarquements (par M. D. B. G.) : If, in this action at 5000 or 4000 meters, the battery's fire is conducted with skill and rapidity, it may very well happen that the ship suffer damages so serious as to cause her to abandon the struggle. In the contrary case, and if-the battery has suffered from the ship's fire, which will be indicated by its slackening its own fire, the ship will approach to attempt the decisive attack and will place itself at a less range, 3000 to 2000 meters. The ship's fire will then become more accurate, for the battery will be clearly seen, ..." All this is quite correct; but then why should the ship linger in a position where it can only take bad blows with no chance of returning them, instead of approaching as soon as possible, to 1000 meters range? It is a fool, that ship; if it wishes to fight only upon condition, it has only to stay away altogether.
Let there be no deception here; we should be cheating ourselves if we imagined that we would be free to quit the battle field at will; it is necessary either to remain its master or to abandon trophies. Retreats in good order exist, as far as navies are concerned, only with the consent of the adversary. In such cases there is neither victor nor vanquished; each withdraws by common consent. This is not the sort of combat (common though it once was) that concerns us; it leads to nothing. It must be admitted, when there is serious fighting, that if one of the combatants yields the field because he has already suffered from gun fire, the other will wish to prevent him from doing so. And then we fall back into the battle in retreat, with the aggravating circumstance that the pursued is already in a precarious condition. The tentative period will only have served to prepare a disaster. If it is not thought that a successful battle can be fought, it is necessary to attempt to escape as soon as the enemy is signalled; but when foot has once been placed on the field of battle one will find himself caught in a mesh and it will be necessary to make a stand.
Let us come now to the second supposition. Many shots have been exchanged, and the enemy's fire appears to slacken; then, but only then, will one think of pushing further this first advantage. But in war advantages do not come about of their own accord; they must be won by dint of energy; well, it is not apparent what would give us this first advantage, since by hypothesis we are holding ourselves in reserve. It can only be the lucky hit that is so often heard of, the shell which, striking normally at the water-line, will put out of action a 15,000-ton battleship.
Which will receive this lucky hit? Our ships or those of the adversary? Fate will decide. If there is no solider ground than this, one won't go under fire very heartily. Chance will always have a part in the operations of war, but, in principle, one can only count upon himself. Let us take advantage of all that it offers us, the more the better, but let us avoid counting upon it; it always betrays those who trust their destinies to it and favors only people who can get along without its aid.
Moreover, the effects of chance will depend much upon the field that is given over to it. It is, therefore, necessary to reduce to a minimum the time during which its action will make itself felt indifferently upon one or the other of the opposing forces; which leads to diminishing as much as possible the period of approach, during which one cannot impose one's will upon the adversary.
To maneuver would be inopportune. In a game that is played openly, like a naval battle, rapidity and impetuosity of attack alone permit forestalling the enemy and preventing him from preparing the counter thrust. By lingering over and prolonging the groping period, he is given time to reflect and himself to assume the offensive. Besides, as soon as fire is opened, the signal halliards will be cut, injuries will begin to occur, the commanders, shut up in conning-towers; will no longer be able to execute precise movements. If the situation is prolonged, the water that the state of the sea or the rolling will bring aboard through breaches in the side will become disturbing, the vessels will be forced to slow down; under these circumstances complicated evolutions would only accentuate the disorder that will not be long in appearing in the formation. A few simple maneuvers, foreseen and practiced in advance, will alone be possible; they will serve to bring the ships within effective range of the enemy and in the position that appears to the admiral most favorable. It is at this instant that the qualities of the commander will reveal themselves; upon the manner in which he succeeds in placing his forces will depend the fate of the battle.
Such is the object to be attained; but it is as difficult to realize as it is easy to define. Yet it would be dangerous to wish to penetrate further in the face of the unknown of the battlefield; we have reached the critical moment when the situation alone can inspire resolutions. Before coming into contact with the enemy, the admiral will without doubt know what he intends to do; but he will not yet know how he will do it. The enemy alone, by his dispositions, will determine the line of conduct to be followed.
At the point where we now are, tactics can do no more than aid the admiral in executing his design; it is powerless to suggest this design to him.
* * *
It is important to establish a very clear distinction between the period of approach that constitutes the presentation to the battle and the battle itself.
During the first phase fire is not opened; we are not troubled by the enemy's fire. All our means are then available and there is no reason not to make use of them. It will, therefore, be possible, to maneuver, and, except for the nervous strain that results from the nearness of the enemy, maneuvers will present no special difficulties.
During the second phase, on the contrary, we shall no longer have the use of the compass; the signal halliards will have been cut; the steersmen will be under shelter. There will be no more thought of maneuvering. Were it wished to maneuver, it could not be done.
Accordingly, one maneuvers or one fights; one does not maneuver while fighting; for maneuvers, were they possible, would derange the fire.
It is, therefore, absolutely useless to have in view a tactics without signals; for, so long as one is not interfered with by gun fire, there is nothing gained by depriving oneself of signals; and when it becomes impossible to make signals it will be equally impossible to maneuver.
Nevertheless, the search for a tactics without signals shows that a proper distinction is not made between the presentation to battle and the battle; and it seems as though we intended to twist and turn under the enemy's very nose without paying any attention to the tempest that will be let loose upon us.
This error might occasion us disagreeable surprises, and what can have given rise to it is not apparent. During the actions of the Russo-Japanese War the Russians never maneuvered; at the most they changed direction by counter-marching. The Japanese, on the other hand, whether on the loth of August or at Tsushima, made simultaneous movements on several occasions; but it seems beyond doubt that these movements were always executed during suspensions of the gun fire, when, in consequence Of incidents of the battle, the adversaries found themselves momentarily separated. We have no right, therefore, to give weight to these evolutions, and it is more prudent to admit that, just as in battles on land, a naval force that is seriously engaged can do nothing else but make head against the enemy.
* * *
It is easy to persuade oneself that battles will always be begun in the same way, the two forces advancing each towards the other, and that, from this very fact, they will be led to make the same movements, since they will find themselves in identical positions that will determine common necessities. It may be objected that the two sides will seldom hit upon the same plan, and that, consequently, the first maneuvers will quickly destroy the symmetry of the initial positions. Moreover, war gives rise on each side to different objectives which influence the manner of presentation on the battle field.
At Lissa, the Italian admiral's objective, which was the capture of the island, had its "reaction upon the distribution of his forces. At the Yalu, the landing of troops brought about the separation of the Chinese forces. At Cavite, the weakness of the Spanish vessels forced upon Admiral Montojo an action at anchor, under shelter of the forts, while at Santiago the same consideration had for its consequence a battle in retreat. On the days of August 10 and Tsushima, the passive attitude of the Russians allowed the Japanese to present themselves to battle without being obliged to take account of the adversary's movements, and this attitude was a consequence of anxiety to get to Vladivostok. We do not mean to say that the methods adopted in these various cases were the best that it was possible to employ; it is none the less true that similar circumstances may arise that will prevent battles from beginning in a uniform manner.
[To BE CONCLUDED.]