The Limitation of Naval Armaments

I

WHEN the first cabled summaries of the American naval reduction proposals reached England, they caused a distinct but not an unpleasant shock. Nothing so bold or so sweeping as the plan outlined by Mr. Hughes had been anticipated. The expectat ion was that an attempt would be made to arrest the laying down of further capital ships in the United States, Japan, and Great Britain; and, further, that the United States might even consent to break up certain ships which were still in an early stage of construction, as an encouragement to Japan to modify her ‘eight-eight.’ programme. But beyond this the most sanguine prophets did not venture to go. It was universally assumed that the majority of the warships actually building or completing in the United States and Japan would remain outside the scope of t he proposals, if only because of the enormous sums of money already spent upon them.

And yet, with the wisdom that comes after the event, we can see now that no plan other than that propounded by Mr. Hughes would have led to the desired result. ‘The way to disarm is to disarm.’ Had it been decided to leave untouched the ships already begun, and merely to curtail, by international compact, the amount of future construction, the practical results of the Conference would have been negligible. Would Great Britain, for instance, have agreed to confine her programme to four capital ships, when America and Japan were actually building, between them, no less than 22 such vessels? Assuredly not, for in doing so she would have condemned herself to a lower place in the naval hierarchy than that occupied by Japan. Yet, if Great Britain had reserved the right of laying down additional ships, neither America nor Japan would have felt justified in binding herself to abstain from further construction. In fact, a complete deadlock must have been reached, and a Conference held in these circumstances would have been foredoomed to failure.

To the everlasting credit of America’s statesmen, they not only foresaw where the difficulty lay, but had the courage to face it squarely, and to suggest the very drastic, but only practicable, method of overcoming it. By so doing, they have set a shining example to international diplomacy.

Already the salutary effects of this vigorous stroke are becoming visible. In Great Britain, the initial feeling of surprise at the sweeping nature of the proposals has been succeeded by a demand for naval limitations of a still more trenchant character. The American plan is criticized, not because it goes too far, but because it does not go far enough. British public opinion, often accused of undue conservatism, is for once revealing itself as decidedly progressive.

In attempting to forecast the future naval situation as modified by an agreement between the leading naval powers along the lines indicated by Mr. Hughes, one is hampered by the uncertainty that prevails as to what essential amendments, if any, the original plan may be subjected to before it is finally accepted and ratified all round. At the moment of writing (late in November), no fundamental modification has been formally suggested from any quarter. I shall therefore proceed on the assumption that the world’s navies, from now onward, will be dimensioned in accordance with the American plan.

The motives which led to the inception of that plan have been widely canvassed in Great Britain, and doubtless in other countries as well; and it may not be without interest to mention certain conclusions that have been reached. Foreigners who make a point of keeping in touch with American domestic affairs had observed, during the preceding months, many symptoms of reaction against the far-reaching naval commitments bequeathed by the Wilson Administration. First and most significant of all was the manifest reluctance of Congress, not only to authorize new construction of any kind whatever, — even when, as in the case of aircraft-carriers, it was represented by the best naval opinion as being indispensable to the efficient operation of the fleet, — but also to vote the necessary credit s for continuing work already in hand. Whether this disinclination was due to alarm at the growing financial burden entailed by the programme and reflected in the ascending curve of Federal taxation, or to a belief that the degree of naval st rength aimed at was in excess of national requirements, is a question not easy for distant observers to answer. But the fact seems indisputable that enthusiasm for the ‘ greatest-navy-on-earth ’ ideal had been cooling for a full twelvemonth before the Conference.

Doubtless there were many taxpayers who perceived the great change that world-conditions had undergone since the passage of the three-year navy bill in August, 1916. At that date none could predict the outcome of the war in Europe, but there seemed more than a probability of Germany’s emerging from the fray with her fleet intact, and perhaps considerably more powerful than before; and this was a contingency to which the United States could not remain indifferent. But when, at the close of the war, the German navy had disappeared, it seemed as if the cardinal motive for the three-year programme had ceased to operate.

However, President Wilson and Mr. Josephus Daniels did not take that view. So far from suggesting a reduction of the 1916 act, they recommended large additions to it. Although these latter were not approved by Congress, the original programme remained in force, and the whole number of capital ships — 15 in all — whose commencement had been held up by the war were laid down between 1918 and 1921.

America’s decision to proceed with these ships did not go unnoticed in Japan. In July, 1920, the Imperial Diet passed a measure authorizing the construction of eight capital ships and many auxiliary craft. During the preceding debate, several members of the Diet spoke of this large increment of tonnage as having become necessary owing to the rapid expansion of the United States navy; nor is there any question that the Japanese Government encouraged that view, which they may quite sincerely have held.

Meanwhile, however, other circumstances had arisen in the United States to cast doubt on the wisdom of completing the 1916 programme in full. When Congress authorized the 16 capital ships which formed the dominating feature of the act, it did so on the understanding that each unit would not cost more than a stipulated sum. Then came America’s entry into the war, the urgent demand for warmaterial of every description, and the beginning of that tremendous rise in the cost of labor and materials which reached high-water mark last year. This factor would of itself have upset the first calculations of cost in regard to the projected ships; but it did not stand alone. So long as their country remained neutral, American naval experts had had to rely on second-hand information concerning the technical lessons of the war; but when the United States became a belligerent, they gained access to the confidential data which had been derived from the battle of Jutland and other engagements fought at sea. This enabled t hem to apply the test of war to their own designs, and t he result was seen in a decision to make important alterations in the battleships and battlecruisers still to be laid down. In consequence of these changes, involving as t hey did a large increase in dimensions, the estimated cost per ship reached a staggering total. The precise figures do not appear to have been published. The building of t he 15 capital ships not yet completed, together with auxiliary craft, docks, and harbor extensions, would probably have swallowed a sum of at least $850,000,000; and once in service, their maintenance would have represented a further heavy and permanent charge on the nation’s purse.

In view of these figures, it is not surprising that thoughtful Americans should have challenged the necessity of incurring so vast an expenditure. Without detracting in any way from the nobler motives which inspired President Harding’s appeal to the world, it may safely be affirmed that no move could have been more timely from the political point of view. None the less, to take full advantage of the opportunity thus presented, statesmanship and moral courage of the highest order were needed. In proposing so revolutionary a step as the cessation of all naval shipbuilding, the President rendered incalculable service, not merely to his own countrymen, but to the civilized communities of the whole world.

II

And now, having examined the economic considerations which unquestionably influenced the President’s action, let us turn to another factor which must have played an equal, if not a greater part in reconciling American naval opinion to the proposed sacrifice of so many ships. A few months before the outbreak of the World War, Admiral Sir Percy Scott, whose name had been associated with important improvements in ships’ gunnery, cast a bombshell into the naval camp by asserting, in the most downright language, that the battleship had outlived her usefulness, and ought to be scrapped forthwith as an extravagant anachronism. In future, he predicted, the submarine would rule the waves supreme; no great ship dare venture to sea in the presence of hostile submarines; nor would she be safe even in port: for he undertook to force the entrance of any harbor in a submarine, and torpedo the big ships as they lay at anchor. Therefore, ran his argument, the money spent on these obsolete mastodons was money thrown into the sea.

It need scarcely be said that the admiral’s views were warmly combated. The Dreadnought type of ship had become the symbol of maritime power, and it seemed almost sacrilegious to impugn its primacy. Of the naval experts who endeavored to refute Sir Percy Scott, many agreed that the submarine had, indeed, become a serious menace, but only in confined waters: it was not, and probably never would be, an ocean-going vessel, they maintained, and therefore could not contest the command of the seas. A few hardy critics went still further, denying the submarine any practical value as a naval weapon, and dismissing it as a mere toy.

The discussion was at its height when the war broke out. Then, as month after month went by without bringing the annihilation of the Grand Fleet by underwater attack, it became evident that Sir Percy Scott had exaggerated the powers of the new arm. On the other hand, it scored a number of sensational coups, which showed it to possess extremely formidable properties. Early in the war, it became such a menace at Scapa Flow that. Admiral Jellicoe found it prudent to withdraw the Grand Fleet from the North Sea for a time — a hazardous proceeding, which might have led to the gravest consequences had the Germans received timely intelligence of it. As the campaign progressed, the submarine began gradually to dominate the whole situation at sea, though not altogether in the sense that Sir Percy Scott had predicted. To this day its powers of offense against the modern battleship remain problematical, because the Germans, after a few abortive attempts against the Grand Fleet, resolved not to risk their submarines in attacking military objectives, but, instead, to concentrate them against merchant shipping. What they did in this direction is ancient history now, but has little bearing on the point at issue.

Broadly speaking, it may be said that the submarine has not proved its claim to have superseded the battleship; and fear of the submarine alone would not have justified the suspension of battleship construct ion. At the same time, it has compelled naval architects to pay increased attention to the safety of large warships. A demand arose for more elaborate precautions against damage below the water-line, and thus was introduced the now famous antitorpedo ‘bulge.’ This meant so much extra weight added to the ship which was already loaded down with massive armor to keep out shell-fire. In the Hood, for instance, one third of the total displacement is accounted for by protective devices. But while the supremacy of the capital ship was still accepted, it was no longer absolute; and before its future status could be determined, a second hammer-blow was struck at the mastodon.

Aircraft, enjoyed few chances during the war of operating offensively at sea. The machines then available were not well adapted to such work, nor were they equipped with bombs sufficiently powerful to inflict serious injury on a large warship. A few attacks were delivered by airplanes carrying torpedoes, but with no conspicuous success. It may be mentioned, however, that in the later stages of the war the torpedoplane was undergoing intensive development in the British Navy, and one large aircraft-carrier was provided with a full complement of these machines. But the war came to an end before the value of airpower as an offensive agency in naval operations had been fully tested.

It was reserved for American enterprise to demonstrate the extraordinary potentialities of aircraft in this rôle, and, incidentally, to administer what may prove to have been the deathblow to the Dreadnought. The surrender of German warships under the Peace Treaty afforded a unique opportunity for practical experiment, of which the American air authorities were prompt to take advantage. Naval men on both sides of the Atlantic were rather disposed to treat aircraft with the same scant respect which they had paid to the submarine in pre-war days. Nor did the preliminary experiments off Cape Hatteras last June give any indication of the dramatic sequel. Not until the ex-German battleship Ostfriesland came under bomb-attack did it dawn upon the spectators that they were witnessing a trial of the most terrible weapon that human ingenuity has so far evolved. Two one-ton bombs, dropped, not on the ship itself but close alongside, and exploding below water, sufficed to send to the bottom a vessel which had been designed with a special view to resisting torpedo or mine attack. So far as could be ascertained, the explosions had blown in a large section of the under-body, causing damage much greater than would have resulted from the same number of torpedo hits.

It is not my purpose to describe in detail experiments which have already received wide publicity in the United States. But to appreciate their full import, it is necessary to study the conclusions reached by experts who had no incentive to exaggerate matters. In September there appeared the report of the Joint Army and Navy Board, which had been appointed to sift and analyze the results of the bombing tests referred to. Space will not permit of more than a few excerpts from this extremely important document, but special attention is directed to the following passages: —

The number of dummy bombs which actually hit the target during the experiments with the ex-Iowa was a very small percentage of those dropped. Other experiments, however, showed that it is not necessary to make direct hits on naval vessels to put them out of action, or to sink them provided the bombs drop sufficiently close to the vessel, and the explosive charge is sufficiently large to produce a mine effect of such proportions as to destroy the watertight integrity of the vessel beyond the control of its personnel and pumps. The effective target for the bomb being, therefore, greater than the deck area of the target vessel, the percentage of effective bombs would be greater than the percentage of actual hits. . . . Aircraft carrying high-capacity highexplosive bombs of sufficient size have adequate offensive power to sink or seriously damage any naval vessel at present constructed, provided such projectiles can be placed in the water close alongside the vessel. Furthermore, it will be difficult, if not impossible, to build any type of vessel of sufficient strength to withstand the destructive force that can be obta ined with the largest bombs that aeroplanes may be able to carry from shore bases or sheltered harbors. So far as known, no planes large enough to carry a bomb effective against a major ship have been flown from, or landed on, an aeroplane-carrier at sea. It is probable, however, that future development will make such operations practicable. . . . The most serious effect of bombs is the mining effect when such bombs explode close alongside and below the surface of the water.

The passages I have italicized constitute the most serious indictment of the capital ship which has yet been framed. Reduced to simple terms, they mean that aircraft, working under favorable conditions, can destroy any battleship which has ever been built or would be possible to build. Compared with the cost of Dreadnoughts, and in proportion to its fighting value, the airplane is absurdly cheap. At least 400 of the largest bombing machines that have been designed up to the present could be constructed for the price of one capital ship. For the time being, it is true, their usefulness for operations on the high seas is restricted by their limited flight, endurance; but — and this fact is of vital moment — aircraft are still in an early stage of evolution, whereas the capital ship has all but reached the limit of its development.

The authors of the official report from which I have quoted do their best to save the prestige of the mastodon, by describing it as ‘still the backbone of the fleet and the bulwark of the nation’s sea defense’; but this opinion is largely negatived by the earlier passages in the same document. Allowance must be made for professional conservatism, which is nowhere rooted more deeply than in the navies of the world. However much sailors may deplore the passing of the Dreadnought, — lineal descendant of the high-charged galleon of Elizabethan days, — sentiment must give place eventually to the inexorable logic of fact, which tells us in the plainest terms that the capital ship can be perpetuated only at the cost of prohibitive dimensions and expenditure, and then only for a very brief period. Her decline is not attributable solely to the menace of submarine and aircraft, though these agencies have materially hastened t he process. Even though both were eliminated, the battleship would still remain an investment of dubious value. She would in any case require to have elaborate protection against the torpedoes launched by surface craft, heavy deck-armor to withstand shells fired at long range and falling at a steep angle, and massive sidearmor against flat trajectory fire. She must keep outside torpedo range, even when fighting a conventional fleet action; and this postulates the heaviest long-range artillery, with its ponderous mountings, barbettes, and complex mechanism; and she must have high speed, to endow her with adequate strategical and tactical mobility.

According to Sir George Thurston, one of the most eminent of British naval architects, the ideal battleship of to-day would be a vessel of 57,000 tons, 932 feet in length, and mounting eight 18-inch guns. A vessel of this type would cost at least $60,000,000. Reason revolts against such an extravagant outlay on a single and very vulnerable ship of war. When the Hood was completed, two years ago, she was acclaimed as the last word in naval construction, special praise being given to her protection against gunfire and torpedoes. She, however, was designed to resist attack by the guns and torpedoes in vogue in 1916, since when both weapons have attained a much higher degree of power. But it is too late to recover the $35,000,000 put into this vessel. The present period is one of such restless development in naval science that a ship which seems perfect when she is laid down may be obsolete before she is completed.

This idea was, no doubt, present in the minds of the American naval experts who drafted the disarmament proposals. In view of all that has happened during and since the war, realizing how precarious the existence of the capital ship has become, and foreseeing the inevitable further development of aircraft and submarines, they may well have asked themselves whether the interests of their country did not imperatively demand the abrogation of the Dreadnought building programme.

Here, then, were two powerful arguments, one economic, the other technical, in favor of canceling the threeyear programme so far as its capital ships were concerned. But, however doubtful American experts may ha ve felt about the future utility of such vessels, it was evident to them that the suspension of Dreadnought construction would entail a certain risk, unless other nations simultaneously took the same action. An international compact to this effect was, therefore, essential. Hence the proposals which Mr. Hughes laid before the Conference at its first sitting.

The plan was submitted at the psychological moment. In Great Britain and Japan, no less than in the United States, the burden of taxation was becoming intolerably heavy; and in both countries there was a marked aversion to the continued squandering of money on inflated naval armaments. Moreover, British naval students realized the technical objections to the Dreadnought almost as clearly as their American colleagues. Japanese professional opinion was less articulate, for in that country the public discussion of military problems is sternly discouraged; but, on the economic side, Mr. Ozaki’s campaign in favor of cutting down expenditure on the navy had evoked a wide response from the masses. Even had the Washington Conference never been convoked it is doubtful whether the Japanese Government would have been able to complete its naval programme in full. In these circumstances, the American proposal was, we may be sure, welcomed with far greater enthusiasm than the Japanese press has seen fit to admit.

III

It is time now to revert to the main heads of criticism which have been passed upon the plan in Great Britain. The proposed ratios of capital-ship tonnage are considered satisfactory, for the British Government had previously announced its acceptance of the principle of naval equality with the United States. It is felt, however, that the utter dependence of the British Isles on imported foodstuffs and other necessaries, which can be brought in only by sea, entitles the British Navy to a larger proportion of cruisers than the plan allows for. In this type of ship, numerical equality with the United States would really connote a British inferiority; for no one will deny that the safety of t he sea-routes, which it is the function of the cruiser to ensure, is of even greater importance to Britain than to the United States.

As regards the limit of size for future capital ships, which may be laid down at the close of the ten year ‘holiday,’ 35,000 tons is considered needlessly high, and as having been inserted as a concession to the partisans of the Dreadnought. Many British naval officers think that the limit for new capital ships should be reduced to 10,000 tons. As one of them has lately said, —

Our communications and shores would be as safe when guarded by a fleet of 10,000ton ships as by one of 40,000-ton ships; as would be those of any country with which we might have to fight — probably more so; and millions of money would be saved under this lower tonnage limit. The building of big ships will not make any of us one whit stronger than if we all confined ourselves by agreement to a smaller size.

Another British admiral writes: —

Why 35,000 tons? What is there in this number that is of importance? Why not 34,000, or 30,000, or 20,000, or 10,000 tons? There is, in reality, no reason whatever for the figure named. A fleet of battleships of 35,000 tons, opposed to another of the same tonnage, can produce no greater results than one of 10,000 tons against another of 10,000 tons. All you have is a bigger battleship. Not only are there no greater results, but, the probability is that the results of an encounter between these immense, costly, irreplaceable ships will be smaller than would attend an engagement between lesser vessels. Officers will be less inclined to risk them, and we shall get the same position as that of the Army of the Potomac, of which Sheridan said, ‘The trouble was that the commanders never went out to lick anybody, but always thought first of keeping from getting licked.’

Was there not, indeed, something of this kind in the minds of the commanders at Jutland? It is perfectly true that the proposed limit of 35,000 tons cannot be defended on any military grounds. If the present-day overgrown mastodons disappeared from the stage, and were superseded by ships of 10,000 tons, — which, by the way, was the limit, fixed by the Peace Treaty for future armored ships built for the German Navy, — the relative standing of the world’s fleets would remain exactly what it was before. Nothing would be modified save the cost. It is felt very very strongly, in Great Britain at least, that a rare chance has been missed at Washington of putting an end to the wasteful and irrational competition in warship dimensions which has gone on for the past twenty years. But there is comfort in the reflection that when, at the end of the ten-year ‘holiday,’ the nations are once more free to build mastodons, the cheaper instruments of sea-warfare will probably have become so deadly that no one will dream of constructing a 35,000-ton ship. The eggs will no longer be concentrated in one huge and fragile basket, but spread over a number of smaller receptacles. Posterity may be able to point to such ships as the Hood, the Maryland, and the Nagato, as the curious relics of a generation which had forgotten the ageold lesson of David and Goliath, and wasted its substance on the production of marine monstrosities.

Objection may be taken, on similar grounds, to the latitude which the American plan gives to a new cruiser construction. Paragraph 25, subsection (e), provides that, ‘no surface vessels carrying guns of calibre greater than eight-inch shall be laid down as replacement tonnage for auxiliary combatant surface craft.’ Now, a cruiser designed to carry eight-inch guns would have to be of generous proportions — probably 10,000 tons at least.; whereas a vessel of half that size would be fully capable of performing all the duties that fall to the lot of the cruising ship. As a matter of fact, no size limit is specified in the case of cruisers, and there is, consequently, nothing to prevent future competition in a type of ship which already costs some $7,500,000 to build. Cruisers of as much as 15,000 tons displacement have been built in the past, so why not again? Was this omission inadvertent or deliberate? The General Board of the United States Navy is known to favor the construction of 10,000-ton cruisers, armed with 8-inch batteries, as the most direct method of balancing Japan’s numerical superiority in light, cruisers; and it is conceivable, therefore, that the question of future displacement was purposely left open, in order that the vessels recommended by the Board might be built.

A total of 80,000 tons for aircraftcarriers is apportioned respectively to the United States and Great Britain. The latter already possesses a fleet of such ships, with an aggregate displacement slightly in excess of the specified limit; but the United States, with only the two converted ships Langley and Wright, is left with a margin of about 50,000 tons, which would enable her to build without delay several aircraftcarriers of large and powerful design.

In its last annual report, the General Board made the following recommendation : —

Such vessels — i.e. aircraft-carriers — should be considered as an absolutely essential type in a modern fleet. For the United States Navy they are urgently needed. These vessels are not auxiliary in the usually accepted meaning of the term. They are esssentially combatant ships associated as such with the other ships of the fighting fleet.

The Naval Appropriation Bill for the fiscal year 1921-22 as amended in the Senate, called for the construction of ‘ two airplane-carriers of the most modern type and equipment and most advantageous size,’ at a limit of cost, of $26,000,000 each; but these vessels were afterward deleted by the House of Representatives. The present intention may be to convert two of the unfinished battle-cruisers into aircraftcarriers, thus placing at the navy’s disposal the two largest and most powerful aeroplane transports in the world. In the opinion of many American naval officers, a few vessels of this character would be of infinitely greater value than a whole fleet of battleships for the defense of outlying possessions in the Pacific.

IV

We come, finally, to the submarinetonnage totals allotted by the American limitation programme; and this, to British observers, is the strangest and by far the least satisfactory part of the whole scheme. They are at a loss to comprehend why the United States should desire to retain for herself, Great Britain, and Japan so high a proportion of underwater craft, in view of the sinister memories they evoke. As Mr. Balfour pointed out in his speech at the Conference, on November 15, of all the weapons employed at sea none is so liable to be abused, as indeed it was shamefully abused by Germany throughout the World War. In British minds, this type will always be associated with the wholesale destruction of non-combatant shipping, and the slaughter of thousands of innocent seafarers — men, women, and children.

It is admitted, of course, that submarine attack is a legitimate method of warfare, when confined to enemy combatant ships; and no exception could be taken to the development and multiplication of t he weapon in question, if it were certain that the evil precedent set by Germany will not at some future time be made the excuse for reviving ‘unrestricted U-boat warfare,’ with all its attendant horrors. But, unfortunately, no such guaranty can be given. On the contrary, various naval writers in France and Italy have lately begun to agitate for international recognition of the submarine guerre de course. In employing her under-water vessels for the destruction of merchant shipping, Germany, they point out, was merely putting into practice the ‘sink at sight’ doctrine preached by Admiral Aube, of the French Navy, more than thirty years ago. According to Aube, it was undoubtedly permissible for a cruiser or torpedo-boat to sink an enemy merchantman, without regard to the fate of those on board. Germany adopted this plan, and her action is no longer condemned, but warmly approved, by certain Continental critics.

No wonder, then, that the British people should view with real alarm the building of large fleets of submarine cruisers by powers with whom they might one day find themselves at war. If a ballot on the subject were taken in the British Navy, there would be an overwhelming vote for the prohibition of the submarine in any shape or form; or, failing that, for the framing of castiron rules against its employment as a commerce-raider. Some may argue that, while the desire to see the last of the submarine is natural enough in the case of Great Britain, which is peculiarly vulnerable to this form of attack, other powers would stand to lose more than they would gain by agreeing to dispense with a weapon which has proved so terribly effective. It is true that Britain has had more reason than any other maritime state to deplore the invent ion of the submarine. When Fulton laid the plans for his submarine boat before the British Admiralty, in 1804, Earl St. Vincent showed no enthusiasm for the project. ‘It is,’ he said, ‘a mode of war which we, who command the seas, do not want, and which, if successful, would deprive us of it.’

But, because the submarine represents a special danger and inconvenience to Britain, it does not necessarily follow that its retention would prove an unmixed blessing to other powers. The submarine, indeed, is as great a menace to their own merchant shipping as to that of Britain. In claiming the right to build underwater craft up to a total of 90,000 tons, it is probable that American experts look upon the type as being particularly well adapted to the function of coast defense, as no doubt it is. But the significant fact remains, that the present trend of submarine development is largely in the direction of increased size, radius, and ocean-going qualities. In more than one country, boats are now under construction which will be large enough to keep the seas for months at a time, fast enough to overhaul any but the swiftest ships afloat, and as powerfully armed as a modern cruiser. The cruising endurance of these vessels may be such as to enable them to circumnavigate the globe without replenishing their fuelsupply.

Lest this be deemed an extravagant statement, I would remind readers that the U-cruiser No. 142, of 2160 tons displacement, completed in Germany during the last year of the war, had a cruising range of 20,000 miles on a single load of fuel. The U-135, of 1190 tons, could travel 12,000 miles, and the U-43, of only 725 tons, 11,250 miles, with one filling of the oil-tanks.

Whether such immense distances could be actually traversed without breaking the journey at a friendly or neutral port would depend chiefly on the physical and mental calibre of the crew. In small submarines, where the living quarters are cramped, and there is very little deck-space available for exercise, men very quickly get out of condition, and cannot remain at sea to t he extreme limit of the boat’s fuel endurance. But in the very large submarines now building or projected, where the berthing accommodation is good and the deck-room less restricted, there is no apparent reason why the human element should not remain at its maximum efficiency for a considerable length of time. This means that the big submersible cruiser will have a longer reach than any other species of war-vessel. It would, for example, be perfectly feasible for a boat of this type to leave its base in Japan, cross the Pacific Ocean, and remain off the American coast for a month or more, doing all the damage that it could — sinking ships, laying mines off harbor mouths, and even bombarding coastal towns within range of its guns.

No other type of warship now extant would be capable of emulating this performance. The submarine cruiser alone could carry the torch of war to the western seaboard of the United States across 4000 miles of ocean; and it is no secret t hat under-water vessels surpassing in size the largest that Germany built are now under construction in Japanese dockyards. It will be seen, therefore, that the United States incurs a certain measure of risk in setting its face against the abolition of the submarine. From the British point of view, the decision is a matter for regret, though the difficulties of imposing an international embargo on the type are well understood. Fears have been expressed that Germany may one day reassert her right to build such vessels; and it is not easy to see on what grounds her claim could be resisted.

So far as can be judged at the present stage, the strategical situation in the Pacific Ocean will not be radically changed by the American plan for reducing the tonnage of navies. Such modifications as may ensue will be rather to the advantage of the United States than otherwise. As I endeavored to show in the Atlantic for November last, even if every battleship and battlecruiser, authorized in the 1916 programme, had been duly completed, the problem of defending the Philippines against an Asiatic foe would have been no nearer solution. It is a question, not so much of ships as of geography and base-power; and until proper fleet bases exist in the Western Pacific, the naval operations necessary to safeguard the Philippines could not be undertaken with any prospect of success.

Certain American naval authorities, who are fully alive to the situation and its difficulties, have lately put forward a new scheme for defending the distant islands which constitute the Achilles’ heel of their country. Briefly stated, their plan is to dispense with heavy armored ships in the Western Pacific, and to place reliance instead on a system of local defense by means of aircraft, submarines, and shore batteries. There is much to be said for the idea. It is, in fact, the only alternative to vast expenditure on the creation of docks and other facilities for the maintenance of a large fleet of capital ships with their satellites; and if a small proportion of the money thus saved were invested in aircraft and submarine specially detailed for the protection of the archipelago, the danger to which it is unquestionably exposed under present conditions would be sensibly diminished. Aircraft working from a shore base can carry heavier loads than machines designed for transport in a ship. If it were known that a hundred aeroplanes, each armed with one or more bombs of the heaviest description, were held in readiness at Cavite and other strategical points in the island group, a would-be invader would surely hesitate to expose his valuable battleships and crowded transports to the devastating blows they could deliver. And if, in addition to the aeroplanes, a large flotilla of submarines was known to be in the neighborhood, the project of invasion might be abandoned, as altogether too desperate a venture.

It is impossible to speak definitely on this point, because the potentiality of aircraft under actual war-conditions is still more or less a matter of surmise; but certainly there are strong grounds for assuming that the existence of a composite mobile defensive force, such as described, would be sufficient to frustrate a large-scale invasion of the Philippines — provided, of course, that the provision of aircraft and submarines was adequate as to both quality and quantity.

We may conclude, therefore, that the United States, in deciding to renounce the major part of its uncompleted naval programme, is hazarding no vital interest of its own. It does not follow, however, that considerations of his country’s interests outweighed or even balanced the higher motives w hich inspired President Harding to issue his noble challenge to the nations. Be the outcome what it may, the American people will always have the proud consciousness of having taken the lead in ridding the world of a burden which had grown too heavy for the weary shoulders of mankind.