The American Military

by Brad D. Lookingbill

  The U.S. took a symbolic step to reduce the risk of war with another multilateral agreement. On August 27, 1928, Secretary of State Frank Kellogg and French Premier Aristide Briand agreed to “condemn recourse to war” and to renounce it “as an instrument of national policy” except in self-defense. Also known as the Pact of Paris, the Kellogg–Briand Pact obtained the signatures of more than 60 nations. The Senate ratified “the harmless peace treaty” by a vote of 85 to 1, albeit with reservations regarding the assumptions of the Monroe Doctrine. Despite lacking a mechanism for enforcement, the fanciful idea of outlawing war inspired enthusiasm among Americans.

  Though endorsing diplomatic commissions and rescue plans, Americans found that “soft” power failed to compel European nations to pay their war debts. The U.S. advanced billions of dollars to friendly governments during World War I, but France and Great Britain refused to make payments until they collected reparations from Germany. Additional loans from American bankers to the German government accomplished almost nothing. By the end of the 1920s, the burdens of the war debts left the world in an uneasy state.

  A Winged Defense

  Nothing propelled the American imagination more than the advancements in aviation technology. By the 1920s, military leaders expected “flying machines” to conduct support operations such as the pursuance of belligerent aircraft, the bombardment of enemy dispositions, and the observation of opposing movements. A handful of pilots challenged Army and Navy doctrines, however, even asserting that airplanes made armed forces on the land and at sea obsolete. Inspired by the writings of British General Sir Hugh Trenchard and Italian Air Chief Giulio Douhet, the champions of air power stressed the decisive role of aviation in winning wars.

  General William “Billy” Mitchell, who briefly commanded the Army Air Services during the Great War, foresaw what he called a “winged defense.” After returning from Europe, he became a spokesman in the U.S. for the strategic concept of air power. The nation needed a unified, independent “air force,” he suggested, for command of the skies in war and peace. “The airplane is the future arbiter of the world's destiny,” he boasted. Indeed, the conventional weaponry in the American military seemed more suited to the age of the dinosaur. He posited that aerial assets enabled armed forces to destroy an enemy's “vital centers,” that is, their bases, factories, and cities. The potential for the swift but assured destruction of civilian targets made governments less likely to risk war, or so he opined.

  On July 21, 1921, Mitchell staged a spectacular “mock” raid on an ex-German battleship anchored off the Virginia Capes. His squadron of bombers sank the Ostfriesland, but the Navy Department dismissed the demonstration. By dropping over 60 bombs on the stationary target, he defied the predetermined restrictions imposed by naval observers. His aviators conducted similar bombing runs in other tests, which underscored the capabilities of Army aircraft to sink the “unsinkable” under certain conditions. Unwilling to concede coastal defense to the battle fleets and the rear admirals, he made his case for air power in the press.

  Eventually, the War Department transferred Mitchell to Fort Sam Houston in Texas and demoted the maverick to colonel. Because the General Staff refused to separate aerial operations from conventional missions, he complained that the inattention of Washington D.C. to aviation seemed “treasonable.” After the Navy airship Shenandoah crashed in Ohio, he recklessly blamed the non-flying brass for incompetence and negligence. “Brave airmen are being sent to their deaths by armchair admirals who don't care about air safety,” he stated to reporters. The Army court-martialed him for insubordination and found him guilty of the charges on December 17, 1925. He resigned his commission the next year but remained an advocate for air power thereafter. Even though his assessments of aircraft carriers missed the mark, his prophecies about long-range bombers largely came to pass. As a prolific writer and renowned lecturer, he detailed the rapid strides made in aviation around the globe and warned of Japanese plans to seize Hawaii, Alaska, and the Philippines.

  Given the public sensation generated by Mitchell's agitation, President Calvin Coolidge organized a board under banker Dwight W. Morrow to review aviation policy. Consistent with the conclusions of previous reviews, the Morrow Board did not recommend divorcing aviation from the War and Navy Departments. Likewise, congressmen balked at the high cost of an aircraft fleet, landing fields, training facilities, and duplicate staff for a “winged defense.” After debating the recommendations, Congress approved the Air Corps Act during 1926. Without altering the command arrangements, it renamed the Army's Air Service as the Air Corps. The branch expanded to 1,514 officers, 16,000 enlisted men, and 1,800 planes, while adding an Assistant Secretary of War for Air Affairs and elevating aviators to the General Staff. Whatever the prospects of air power, the limited budgets and internecine rivalries made the airplane little more than a tactical vehicle for years.

  As the Army flyers contemplated a grand strategic doctrine, their counterparts in the Navy made practical gains in aeronautics. The Naval Air Service adhered to the unglamorous notion that aviators merely complemented the battle fleet, which placed them in support roles during maritime operations. Nevertheless, prominent officers such as Admiral William S. Sims believed that the proliferation of airplanes foreshadowed a revolution in naval warfare. As flying moved into the mainstream, graduates of Annapolis began receiving compulsory training in aviation after an initial tour at sea. By law, naval airmen assumed command of air stations, training posts, seaplane tenders, and aircraft carriers. Concerned about the presence of Japanese warships, the Navy worked the problems of tactical aviation that derived from planning thrusts across the Pacific Ocean.

  Impressed by German airships in the Great War, the Navy appreciated the benefits of lighter-than-air operations with blimps and dirigibles. They extended “the eyes of the fleet” by scouting over vast oceans, although the slow-moving models proved vulnerable to stormy weather. Once Americans found a means to replace the flammable hydrogen with the nonflammable helium, the future of rigid airships appeared to brighten. For example, the U.S.S. Los Angeles made 331 flights after its commissioning by the Navy in 1924.

  Though not a Navy flyer, Rear Admiral William A. Moffett became the Navy's Chief of the new Bureau of Aeronautics after 1921. Under his effective leadership, the Bureau refined concepts for tactical aviation, improved designs for aircraft construction, managed relations with key industries, and obtained funding for aerial assets. He insisted that a bombing attack launched from aircraft carriers “cannot be warded off.” Colleagues dubbed him the “air admiral” before 1933, when he perished in a crash of the dirigible, the U.S.S. Akron.

  Throughout the 1920s, admirals at sea recognized that air superiority combined with battleship firepower potentially spelled doom for an enemy's fleet. Naval disarmament notwithstanding, the “treaty Navy” did not curb the striking capabilities of airplanes in the battle line. The shipyard in Norfolk, Virginia, converted a coal collier named the Jupiter into the first U.S. aircraft carrier, which was re-commissioned as the U.S.S. Langley on March 20, 1922. Congress soon funded the outfitting of two more carriers, the U.S.S. Lexington and the U.S.S. Saratoga. Consistent with the teachings of the Naval War College, the aviators took to the skies to defend the fleet and to harass their foes. With just the bare necessities, naval aircraft evolved into ship killers.

  An effective air strike required not only technical improvements in naval aircraft but also significant increases in sortie rates. For takeoffs and landings, no more than one airplane was on deck at a time. Captain Joseph M. Reeves, who took command of the fleet's aviation in 1925, called upon pilots and crewmen to find faster ways to launch and to return. Nicknamed the “Bull,” he pushed their limits by demanding answers to “Reeves' Thousand and One Questions.” Initially, it took 35 minutes to land 10 aircraft. After eight months of trial and error, the same number landed in only 15 minutes. A fighter squadron on the Langley completed 127 landings in a single day. Most of
the hands-on training occurred at the squadron level, which fostered cohesion without standardization. While testing aeronautics through war games and fleet exercises, Americans began to abandon British techniques and to develop their own.

  Americans earned their wings in the “golden age” of aviation, in which improvisation seemed routine for pilots. With open cockpits, they were exposed to uncertain elements in every flight. They confronted adverse conditions and conducted night operations at high speeds. A few became celebrities by winning air races and setting competition records, while scores lost their lives in accidents. Whatever the risks, the Navy and the Army found a long line of daredevils thrilled about the chance to fly.

  From Ships to Shores

  Owing to the fluid nature of naval warfare, Americans endeavored to improve the quality of fleet operations with secure formations. No longer steaming in single file, the circular shape became the standard formation for a battle line. Concentric rings of cruisers and destroyers screened the advance and the approach, while the gunnery of the battleships and the airplanes of the carriers engaged from the center. The heavy warships concentrated their firepower on the enemy's dispositions, thereby giving command of the sea to the Navy.

  The Navy expected the “gun club” of admirals to prevail against all enemies, although the disarmament treaties of the 1920s restricted the tonnage of the capital ships. The enlisted strength remained around 80,000 sailors, while budgetary constraints deferred plans for the maintenance and modernization of shipboard batteries. The 87 four-stacker destroyers began showing their age. The planned construction of additional heavy and light cruisers languished. A “fleet train” of auxiliaries offered mobile support beyond Pearl Harbor, but it amounted to a handful of outdated oilers, troop transports, supply vessels, and repair ships. In fact, the commissioning of new ships for the fleet exacerbated manpower shortages. Authorized by Congress in 1930, the U.S.S. Ranger represented the first vessel that the Americans built as a carrier from keel to deck. However, the baby flattop lacked armor and displaced a mere 13,800 tons. As the Japanese government made end runs around the agreed-upon limits, the U.S. struggled to find ways to balance the fleet.

  Below the surface, the Navy deployed the first fleet boats, that is, the “S” Class submarines. Technological advances enabled underwater vessels to cruise away from shores while supporting the battle line. Their improving speed, range, and inhabitability allowed them to accompany the fleet on voyages, which incited debates about their utilization. Patrols lasted as long as 75 days and reached as far as 12,000 miles. Nevertheless, sub crews faced perils such as carbon monoxide from diesel engines and chlorine gas from the salt water and electric batteries. If they dived at too steep of an angle, then pressure crushed the hulls. Equipped with six to ten torpedoes, submarine captains tracked enemy ships with little more than a periscope and slide-rule devices. By 1930, the Navy Department counted only 26 fleet boats among its submarine assets.

  Administered by the Navy Department, the Marine Corps conducted a variety of missions from ships to shores. After World War I, they performed constabulary duties in Nicaragua, Hispaniola, and China. Regiments went ashore with increasing frequency, even though they numbered no more than 20,000 men. The Advanced Base unit at Quantico, Virginia, reorganized into the Expeditionary Force, which participated in the first large-scale landing exercise in Panama. Their paramount tasks involved the seizing, holding, and maintaining of forward bases for the Navy. Furthermore, a Marine report titled the “Strategy and Tactics of Small Wars” offered guidance for special operations in Central America and the Caribbean. Captain Lewis “Chesty” Puller became known as “El Tigre” while fighting guerrillas in a tropical environment. The commandant, General John A. Lejeune, averred that “the major wartime mission of the Marine Corps is to support the fleet by supplying it with a highly trained, fully equipped expeditionary force.”

  In respect to Lejeune's goals for the Marines, amphibious assaults represented a theoretical rather than a practical problem. His protégé, Major Earl “Pete” Ellis, authored Operation Plan 712D, which he titled “Advanced Base Force Operations in Micronesia.” His prescient study imagined the seizure of island bases, even though military experts dismissed ship-to-shore movements as all but impossible. Undaunted by the famous British disaster at Gallipoli, he held forth on the procedures for a successful attack from the sea. “In order to impose our will upon Japan,” he wrote in anticipation of the future, “it will be necessary for us to project our fleet and land forces across the Pacific and wage war in Japanese waters.” Accordingly, he estimated the troop levels and the fire superiority required for the landings on defended beaches. However, he mysteriously died in 1923 while visiting the Japanese-mandated island of Palau. In light of his pioneering work, the Marine Corps Schools at Quantico began to provide instruction on amphibious assaults.

  By making amphibious assaults their specialty, the Marines moved into the vanguard of fleet operations that established beachheads. Waterborne offensives against land-based fortifications, which hurled men against machine guns, heavy artillery, and sea walls, appeared rife with perils. Nonetheless, officers worked the problems of the complicated logistics in combined exercises. Their tests of amphibious equipment disappointed all too often, but the effective concentration of naval gunfire and air strikes proved feasible. They grasped that a ship-to-shore movement was no simple ferrying operation but a vital part of the attack itself. Because achieving a tactical surprise seemed unlikely, they focused their energies on the advantages of thorough preparation and proficient communication. By 1927, the Army-Navy Joint Board assigned responsibility to the Marines for developing the techniques to conduct landings.

  After attending the Naval War College, Lieutenant Colonel Holland M. Smith contributed significantly to reworking the plans for landings. By 1932, he served as the fleet Marine officer of the battle force on board the U.S.S. California. During the combined exercises off the coast of Oahu that year, he watched as men scrambled over the coral and waded through the surf. Afterward, he lamented that “the suppositional enemy would have wiped us out in a few minutes.” Like other Marine officers of the interwar generation, he engaged in a long yet successful battle to make innovations in naval tactics for assailing supposedly impregnable beaches. “Howlin' Mad” Smith continued to rise through the ranks, eventually earning accolades as the “father of amphibious warfare.”

  The most visible advance in amphibious warfare occurred in 1933, when the Navy Department recognized the Fleet Marine Force, or FMF. General John H. Russell, who soon became the commandant of the Marine Corps, suggested a plan for a unit that operated under the control of the fleet commander. With approval from the Chief of Naval Operations, the Secretary of the Navy Claude A. Swanson issued General Order 241 to define the FMF. Henceforth, the few but proud Marines comprised an integral component of the fleet operations.

  After more fine-tuning, the concerted effort of the Marines culminated in the promulgation of an amphibious doctrine. At Quantico, the faculty and students synthesized more than a decade's worth of reports into the 1934 publication of the “Tentative Landing Operations Manual.” Four years later, the Navy adopted it as Landing Operations Doctrine, or Fleet Training Publication 167. Whether serving afloat or ashore, members of the armed forces later recognized the text as the military equivalent to Holy Scripture.

  While the doctrine won converts among military leaders, technical difficulties undermined the best-laid plans for landings. The high command touted the key principle of “combat loading,” which required the efficient delivery of all personnel and assets for the ship-to-shore movement on a strict schedule. However, the Marines needed special landing craft as well as new amphibious vehicles to “swim” ashore. Over time, technological changes resulted in the Higgins boat and the “Alligator” tractor. Issues remained in regard to fire support from the air and the sea, which presented quandaries for the Navy. Marine aviators pleaded to form more fighter squadro
ns to complement the boots on the ground, while Marine infantrymen pressed the battleship gunners to use more bombardment shells with heavier bursting charges. Compounded by a dramatic economic downturn in the U.S., federal parsimony made it difficult for the Navy Department to build a war machine for the Pacific theater.

  During the interwar period, the Navy Department appeared resourceful with every imaginable aspect of fleet operations. In collaboration with crews manning the ships, the Marine Corps experimented with radio communications, day and night landings, smoke-screens and feints, concentrated salvos, dispersed infiltrations, and broad-front maneuvers. All agreed that the crucial elements for victory at sea were aggressive advances, individual initiative, and battle planning, which set the standards in the Navy for decades to come.

  Our Economic Army

  Once the Army demobilized, Americans made few efforts to prepare for another war. The surge of pacifism and the desire for disarmament stalled the strategic initiatives of the War Department for more than a decade. Congress largely ignored the recommendations of the General Staff for arming the forces, which left the rank and file in a poor state of readiness.

  Chartered by Congress in 1919, the American Legion rallied veterans across the U.S. on behalf of military affairs. Becoming the most prominent veterans' organization in the nation, it emerged as a powerful lobby in state and federal politics. Members resolved to foster camaraderie as well as to promote patriotism. Some posts sponsored vigilante measures during the Red Scare, but most focused on school curricula and involved citizenship. Eventually, the American Legion became well known across the country for its baseball program.

  The country also celebrated a civic-minded group of women known as the Gold Star Mothers. Their name derived from the display of a star on the houses of mothers who had lost sons in combat overseas. They served as the inspiration for countless speeches and public commemorations. Voluntary societies lobbied Congress to sponsor pilgrimages to Europe, which enabled grieving mothers to visit the graves of sons buried outside the continental U.S. In early 1929, Coolidge signed a bill that authorized the War Department to aid Gold Star Mothers traveling to American cemeteries in foreign lands.