Page:Ian Hay - America At War - The Times - 1918-03-27.jpg



It may fairly be asked: To what extent can the Allies rely upon American help in the field during 1918? American troops will undoubtedly furnish immediate relief to the war-worn French line by taking over a great sector of trenches, and will be able to inflict enormous casualties upon the enemy—which, by the way, is much the most useful thing that we can do to-day. But we must not expect too much.

More might possibly have been done had the American nation been free from the foibles and shortcomings of the rest of humanity. A year ago many enthusiastic persons, overjoyed at America's entry into the war, actually assumed that such was the case, and most of us paid America the compliment of believing at least that America could prepare for action more quickly than any other nation. But it was an impossibly high compliment. America has once more demonstrated the fact, brought out over and over again in this war, that an efficient military system is made and not born, and that no nation can learn from any mistakes but its own.

The war, in America, has suffered somewhat from "over-boosting." Once committed to the struggle, the American people took up their task with characteristic enthusiasm. There were many contributing causes. Thousands of sensitive Americans had burned for three years with a sense of passionate resentment at the cumulative; insults heaped upon their beloved country by Germany, and of shame at the mingled surprise and reproachfulness of the Allies over America's supine attitude. Others, less sensitive but: equally alive to the situation, had long realized that this was no mere European war, but that if Germany defeated France and Great Britain America's turn would come next. But the vast] majority of the people came in with a "whoop," without having thought out the difficulties of the situation, partly because "every generation must have its war" and partly because President Wilson had appealed to America "to make the world safe for democracy." Americans, if they have a fault, are a little inclined to assume a monopoly of the democratic virtues, and the President's phrase set the country on fire. The war at once assumed the aspect of a crusade, as indeed it is. The New World was going to save the Old. War fever fell upon the country, and the contrast between those who realized the war and those who did not became more marked than ever. It was in vain that the better-balanced section of the community suggested that promise was not quite the same thing as performance, and that newspaper headlines 4in. high do not in themselves constitute a victory.

But the enthusiasts had to have their fling. "We are going to win this war," they announced, "by bringing in new ideas. We are going to! send 20,000 aeroplanes to bomb Berlin. Has that been done before? No! We are going to send over thousands of submarine-chasersThomas Edison will invent them and Henry Ford will build them-to end the submarine pest. We have the goods. America has never yet emerged defeated from a war." And so on. "That may be so," replied the sober-minded; "but let us bear in mind the fact that America has never found herself in conflict with the full resources of a first-class Power." But this doctrine was too unpalatable, and the enthusiasts proceeded to boost" the war with all the misdirected zeal of the gentleman who once blacked himself all over to play Othello. The result was a tremendous war boom. Conscription was passed by acclamation; loans were over-subscribed. Everything that a generous national spirit could do was done, and many people, forgetting that national enthusiasm is no guarantee of departmental efficiency, at once assumed that the organization of victory was coming automatically.

With the partial breakdown of war activity, consequent upon coal shortage, traffic congestion, and severe weather, the bubble burst. The boom came to an abrupt end—especially in the East— and something like a slump set in. But that was quickly tided over; and now the native ability and sound business instinct of the American people are grappling with the real problems of the war. The War Department is being reorganized largely on British lines; production has been speeded up. Big brains are concentrating on the transportation problem, which is going to be the deciding factor in the war. To concentrate on transportation when all your heart is set upon getting to actual grips in No Man's Land is a hard task for a gallant and high-spirited people; but the thing has to be done, and the wise men of America know it. It is useless to prepare an overwhelming army for service in France until you have prepared a means not merely of transporting, reinforcing, and feeding that army, but of continuing to maintain American and Allied Armies already in the line of battle.

So America, like the rest of us, must have time. To-day, strangely enough—though the fact might have been foreseen—her contribution to the Allied cause is actually less than it was a year ago. The reason is simple. A year ago America was at peace, and her surplus resources were available for the assistance of her friends across the sea. To-day she is at war; she has no surplus resources; all her energy is concentrated on herself, and will be until she is ready and equipped for battle. When that happens—when her vast potential energy has been converted into dynamic energy—she will step heavily into that scale of the balance recently vacated by Russia, and Prussian militarism will kick the beam.

But she has a task before her which will call for national ability and fortitude of the highest order. Above all will it call for national imagination, for without imagination a country which is situated from three to seven thousand miles away! from the seat of war cannot possibly realize the meaning of that war and the consequences if it is lost. So let us, with the grim realities of the struggle at our very elbow, make special allowance for our Transatlantic Allies in this respect, and we shall have our reward. For America is going to make good in this war to a degree which will surprise even her warmest admirers.