In 1946, a prominent political writer debunked the possibility of war between Russia and the United States, pointing out among other things, the lack of a suitable battleground on which opposing armies might meet. He did not anticipate the decision to station American troops in Europe nor did he recognize what every officer in the Navy and Air Force knows: that navies and air forces do not require terrestrial battlefields.
The decision to station American divisions in Europe invalidates the no-battleground argument so far as armies are concerned. The argument never was valid for navies and air forces. If war comes, the American people may now choose between two possible offensive strategies (as opposed to the defensive effort in Western Europe): sea-air warfare along the coastlines and across the borders of the enemy or a land offensive beyond the Rhine and across the face of Eastern Europe.
It is unlikely that the Great Debate will change the announced policy of putting American divisions in Western Europe. The policy is supported not only by the State Department but also by a glittering array of expert military talent including, in addition to Generals Eisenhower and Marshall, every member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. No military or naval officer of any reputation has voiced opposition to the proposition that our national interest requires the stationing of U. S. troops in Europe.
Since the decision to put troops overseas to bolster the defenses and will-to-fight of the Western European nations is primarily a military affair—involving as it does military risks and military strategy—it is a foregone conclusion that opposition to this policy cannot be sustained unless the opposition succeeds in winning the support of influential military personalities. In the light of testimony and statements already delivered by the chiefs of the military services and by prominent retired officers—such as General Spaatz—it is evident that military support of the Taft-Hoover thesis will not be forthcoming. Therefore, it can be anticipated that the United States will support its obligations under the Atlantic Pact by means including the sending of army divisions to Western Europe.
Future military thinking must be predicated upon the existence of this policy and must examine the implications it has for over-all strategical aims. The debate over this policy has been conducted almost exclusively upon a political level. Discussion of long-range military considerations has not appeared—a rather surprising phenomenon when we consider the essentially military nature of the undertaking.
The policy itself entails some truly enormous risks that must have called for razor- sharp calculations.
The first risk comes in placing what may be the bulk of allied ground strength directly under the guns of the Red Army. American troops in France and Germany will occupy an outpost position on the perimeter of the democratic world. They will occupy a geographic position akin to that occupied by the American Pacific Fleet on the eve of Pearl Harbor. Our prewar fleet was stationed in the vulnerable mid-Pacific rather than in Californian waters; our postwar divisions will be put in an equally dangerous posture. If we are to avoid a quick knockout, our forces will need to remain constantly alert to the dangers of a sneak attack.
If the Soviets conceived and executed a successful blitz of Western Europe, we would have to reckon either upon the capture of the bulk of our ready divisions or upon their evacuation. Evacuation would be an ordeal under the best of circumstances and might prove impossible in the face of determined enemy tactical and strategic air power, especially if atom bombs were employed against intended evacuation ports.
Preparation for the defense of Western Europe will involve shipping billions of dollars of military supplies and equipment overseas. It seems likely—if preparations are hastened—that the bulk of our resurgent war production, insofar as the implements of land warfare are concerned, will be shipped to Europe either for the use of our own troops or in support of allied forces under the military assistance program. All of this treasure plus the billions of dollars in industrial equipment and supplies that have been exported under EGA could fall booty to the Red Army if Russia initiates an attack before allied forces gather enough strength to offer real and effective resistance.
We are also gambling upon the sentiments and attitudes of the Western Europeans, many of whom seem to have a somewhat pessimistic outlook about their chances in the event of war actually breaking out. Not only must we consider the misgivings of the pro-Americans, but we must also reckon on those who are now anti-American in one way or another. It is difficult to calculate the extent of pro-Communist feeling among the common people of France and Italy, but it can be assumed that many members of the working classes—those who will serve in the ranks of allied armies—entertain pro-Communist sentiments. To the extent that their sympathies lie with Soviet Russia, their will to fight against Russia is weakened.
Among the upper and middle classes of Western Europe, we have to acknowledge the existence of “neutralists” who feel that the present world crisis is strictly a matter between Russia and the United States and that Western Europe ought to avoid being trapped in the middle. It is our hope that dynamic American leadership coupled with economic support and on-the-spot-troops will rally these wavering neutralists and alienate Communist sympathizers from their orientation towards Moscow.
Add to these already formidable risks the risk of disillusioned public opinion in the United States if disaster overtakes our troops overseas. Since the proposal to place troops in Europe has been so strongly challenged, a failure of this endeavor would bring about widespread loss of confidence in the nation’s political and military leadership and might seriously impair our will to fight a long and severe war.
Presumably all of these gloomy possibilities were reviewed before the Administration announced its intentions. When we look at the positive side of the problem, there are two factors that seem to justify the decision. First of all is the calculation that the deterrent effect of American sea and air power— particularly our ability to devastate the Soviet heartland with atomic bombing—will keep the Russians from attacking Western Europe during the phase of allied build-up. It is our naval and Air Force strength-inbeing that permits us to go ahead with plans for the defense of Western Europe.
Second is the calculation that we must guard the reservoir of skilled manpower and the industrial plant of Europe from falling into Soviet hands. This view implies a belief that victory in modern war goes to the side with the most mines and factories, a belief supported by the experience of two world wars.
If the American people were ruthless, it is true that we might have chosen another tactic that would have avoided the risks of land warfare in Europe by sacrificing the increment of military and industrial power that a friendly Europe affords us. We could prevent Russia from gaining any advantage in seizing Europe by arranging for a “scorched earth” policy in the event of Communist aggression. It is conceivable that the threatened demolition of the mines, factories, and transportation network of Western Europe would deter Soviet aggression, but it is less likely that we could persuade the Europeans to consent to destroying their economic mainstays, even though the Dutch tradition of “flooding the dykes” could be cited together with the ace-in-the- exhausted enemy, hole strategy of the Swiss to blow up their The primary objectives of an air-sea mountain tunnels in the event of attack. If strategy in a world without Europe would be persuasion did not work, we could coerce people of Western Europe into dynamiting their mines and factories, particularly if we threatened to bomb whatever installations they themselves left untouched.
A scorched Europe would deny to the Russians the economic advantage that they could otherwise expect from a conquest of the Western nations. However, this approach can only be thought of abstractly; our tradition of moral idealism and the principles for which we stand as a nation would prohibit such an inhuman strategical calculation.
It might be wiser for us to proceed with the knowledge that the risks we are taking in Europe are being made primarily for moral principle—because of our friendship for the European peoples and out of a desire to preserve the cradle of Western civilization from invasion by Communist barbarians. This is a worthwhile aim and one that can be staunchly defended. If we base our stand simply on the proposition that we must have the resources of Europe on our side, we depreciate and debase our own high motivation. It is evident that if war came we could get along without Europe’s resources, should the democratic nations chose to destroy them in order to keep them away from the Russians.
If Europe did not exist, the evolution of American military strategy would be enormously simplified. Since we have a powerful Navy and Air Force, we would employ their offensive power and avoid engagements with the numerically superior ground forces of the Communist bloc. In terms of geography, tradition, existing equipment and know-how, the American nation is a strong naval power and a relatively weak land power, so we would rely for survival primarily upon our strength on the sea and in the air. Our basic strategy would be the application of naval and air warfare along the periphery of the Communist stronghold long enough to cripple the enemy strength. It might take ten or fifteen years to accomplish this objective, at the end of which time the Army could invade from one or more points and carry the war to a swift conclusion against a demoralized and exhausted enemy.
The primary objectives of an air-sea strategy in a world without Europe would be the five in number:
(a) Destruction of enemy naval forces, particularly submarines.
(b) Destruction of enemy air forces.
(c) Destruction of enemy transportation facilities with particular emphasis upon bridges, tunnels, coastal and river shipping.
(d) Destruction of enemy oil resources and industrial facilities.
(e) Ground defense of advanced base areas and overseas sources of supply of critical war materials.
This strategy assumes that we would be able to bomb the enemy without ourselves being bombed to an equal extent by him, a reasonable assumption provided that we have enough air and naval striking forces at the outbreak of another war. The enemy can have no air bases near to the United States so long as we control the seas whereas we can maintain bases outside the reach of his tank and infantry, but close to his homeland. This factor alone should guarantee the pattern of attrition. Further than this, our air forces— especially carrier task forces—can prevent the enemy from mounting an effective bomber offensive against us. All potential enemy bomber bases are located within striking distance from the sea and it is within our power to knock out enemy bomber bases by direct attack. It is extremely doubtful that any large bomber base could be kept in operation if it came under the deliberate attack of powerful carrier task forces. Our Navy and Air Force can neutralize Communist airfields devoted to staging bomber raids against the United States. Offensive action with attack aircraft against bomber bases is a surer way to safeguard our cities against atomic bombing than are radar nets or passive measures of civilian defense.
Since it would be within our power to bomb and blockade enemy countries and at the same time prohibit retaliatory bombing against us, the ultimate conclusion of a war conducted on these lines would lead to victory for our side.
Unfortunately for pipe dreams about an ideal American military strategy, Europe does exist and the strategy we adopt will have to represent a compromise between what might be called the optimum military strategy of a maritime power and the strategy that we will have to use. Except for Europe, the striking power of the democracies could be centered in the Navy and Air Force of the United States rather than in the United States Army. The primary role of the ground forces during the first years of another war would most naturally be to support and safeguard air and naval operations.
The important thing to keep in mind about Western Europe is the defensive purpose of our commitments in that area. Under no circumstances should we allow the successful defense of the area west of the Rhine River to tempt us into undertaking offensive ground warfare against the Communist nations. At no time should we permit the events of the battlefield to entice us into the belief that offensive land warfare is the best way to fight the power of the Soviet bloc. For it was a strategy of offensive land warfare that led to the defeat of the Carthaginian nation.
There is more than a superficial analogy between our situation and that of the Carthaginians. Their allies lay overseas: in Spain, in the Balkans, and potentially in Gaul. Many of our allies occupy the same territory as did theirs. In addition to the geographic, there is a political parallel. All but two contestants for mastery of the Mediterranean basin had been eliminated in the succession of wars that commenced with the Peloponnesian struggle between Athens and Sparta. In our century, first France in World War I, then Great Britain and Germany in World War II lost out in the competition for world domination. The economic parallelism of the two situations is also evident. In the second century before Christ the Mediterranean market became saturated in much the same way that the world market of today is becoming tighter and more consolidated. Today the real issue is whether Russia or the United States will predominate in fixing the conditions of world economic activity. It may be One World, as Mr. Willkie so eloquently asserted, but there are two antagonistic groups of world leaders.
The events of the Second Punic War are particularly illuminating with respect to the play of forces between land and sea power. It is conceivable that Carthage, which was traditionally a seafaring nation, might have willed to force an issue with Rome on the sea, or at the least to have depended upon her navy for a major share of the fighting. But there must have been some Carthaginians, perhaps Hannibal himself, possessed of pseudo-oracular powers who proclaimed: “Rome has no navy. What do we need a navy for?” At any rate, Carthage seems to have let her naval power lapse to the extent that she was unable to command the seas to the north of Sicily at any period during the Second Punic War. Hannibal crossed the Alps for the simple reason that he did not possess sufficient naval power to proceed direct from Spain to Italy by sea. He lived off the Italian countryside largely because the Roman naval blockade interdicted logistic support by sea from Carthage. And in the epic irony of all, Hasdrubal and Hannibal were defeated by Roman legions reinforced by troops transported from Spain in ships.
Carthage might have vanquished Rome had she possessed the wisdom to fight a naval, rather than a land war, against Rome. But her leaders thought that the natural counter to one army is another army. This is pedestrian strategy. The natural enemy of the cobra is not another cobra; it is the mongoose. The natural enemy of a land power is a naval power.
Since 1800 Russia has fought five wars of consequence. She won two of them and lost the other three. Russia defeated Napoleon— the greatest European wizard of land warfare—in a strictly land campaign. Russia defeated Hitler in another war on the land. (Hitler’s land-locked mentality prevented him from utilizing the water route over the Black Sea for the supply of German forces in Southern Russia. The battle of Stalingrad was determined by logistic factors, particularly by the inadequate supply of munitions the Germans were able to transport across a 1600 mile overland route that was under constant guerrilla harassment.) Russia lost to Japan in a war whose main event was the Battle of Tsushima. She lost again in the Crimean War against a coalition of land and maritime powers. A major cause of the Russian defeat in World War I was the effective naval blockade in the Baltic which cut off supplies of munitions from being transported into Russia from the West. If the history of the last 150 years is any indicator, Russia is vulnerable to sea power—more vulnerable than she is to land power.
If we are to win another war, we must focus our preparedness effort primarily upon naval and air strength, in particular towards more and newer aircraft carriers and guided missile ships.
Until we are certain that we have exhausted the fighting potential of the Communist nations, we must scrupulously avoid the temptation prematurely to initiate large- scale land offensives (as opposed to defensive actions to hold Western Europe). This will not be easy to do. Even in ancient Athens where the naval tradition flourished, the urge to commit land forces was so strong as to disrupt the calculated Athenian strategy of naval warfare against the Spartans. For several years the Athenians maintained a favorable balance in the war against Sparta simply by amphibious hit-and-run attacks against the coastal cities of the Peloponnesus. Then they impulsively overextended themselves against Syracuse and were never again able to regain the initiative.
In World Wars I and II, ground army action occupied the center of the stage in the European theater. It is tempting to assume that another war would necessarily have to follow the established pattern of mass-army action. But this assumption overlooks the new alignment of forces, significantly different from the lineup of the last two wars. In World War I the American army assisted the British and French armies to defeat the Germans. In World War II the allied army assisted the Red. Army to defeat the Wehrmacht. The tide of ground warfare turned at Stalingrad, a year and a half before the Normandy landings. Even as our armies vaulted toward the Rhine, the German order of battle remained about the same. Approximately two German divisions fought the Russians for every one German division that faced the forces under General Eisenhower. We, in effect, took on one-third of the German army and the Russians battled the other two-thirds. We succeeded in fighting the minority part of the Wehrmacht, but this does not extrapolate into the proposition that we could be equally successful in engaging the totality of the Russian army except on a purely defensive basis within the limited area west of the Rhine River.
In theory, we can wait until war comes before deciding upon an air-sea, vis-d-vis a ground army, offensive strategy. In actual fact the forces we create in the next two or three years will determine the direction of our grand strategy before a shot is fired. A moderate increase in the strength of our Army together with a drastic increase in the striking power of our Navy and Air Force will cast the die in one direction. A large increase in army divisions, beyond that required to assist the nations of Western Europe in the defense of their territories, will inevitably propel us into the kind of war we are now fighting in Korea (minus the air and naval supremacy we enjoy over there).
We do need to be concerned over the temptation to try our luck at offensive ground warfare against the Communist coalition. This type of warfare would enable the Communists to employ their greatest asset— an unlimited supply of peasant manpower. It would compromise the superiority that we would enjoy in highly mechanized air-sea warfare and would thrust us directly into the human anthill variety of ground warfare.
Looking toward the future, our greatest problem in full-scale war will be how to limit the scope of ground warfare and exploit our offensive air and sea power to the best advantage. Unless we reckon our moves carefully, we may drift willy-nilly into the same mistake Carthage made against Rome.
Hannibal’s Alpine passage with his herd of elephants symbolizes in the popular imagination the spirit and events of the Punic Wars. General Eisenhower has no elephants and we can hope that he never gets any. Hannibal’s elephants were a sad substitute for naval power. If General Eisenhower ever acquires a herd, they will be an equally defective substitute for the air and naval power we ought to have.