Chapter 11
9. The Value of the Defensive
It is true that in certain respects the defensive has advantages, the possession of which may even justify an expression, which has been stated as a maxim of war, that “Defense is a stronger form of war than Offense is.” I do not like the expression, for it seems to me misleading as to the determinative characteristics of a defensive attitude; but it may pass, if properly qualified. What is meant by it is that in a particular operation, or even in a general plan, the party on the defense, since he makes no forward movement for the time, can strengthen his preparations, make deliberate and permanent dispositions; while the party on the offensive, being in continual movement, is more liable to mistake, of which the defense may take advantage, and in any case has to accept as part of his problem the disadvantage, to him, of the accumulated preparations that the defense has been making while he has been marching. The extreme example of preparation is a fortified permanent post; but similar instances are found in a battle field carefully chosen for advantages of ground, where attack is awaited, and in a line of ships, which by the solidarity of its order, and deployment of broadside, awaits an enemy who has to approach in column with disadvantage as to train of guns. In so far, the form taken by the defense is stronger than the form assumed for the moment by the offense.
If you will think clearly, you will recognize that at Tsushima the Japanese were on the defensive, for their object was to stop, to thwart, the Russian attempt. Essentially, whatever the tactical method they adopted, they were to spread their broadsides across the road to Vladivostok, and await. The Russians were on the offensive, little as we are accustomed so to regard them; they had to get through to Vladivostok—if they could. They had to hold their course to the place, and to break through the Japanese,—if they could. In short, they were on the offensive, and the form of their approach had to be in column, bows on,—a weaker form,—which they had to abandon, tactically, as soon as they came under fire.
In our hostilities with Spain, also, Cervera’s movement before reaching Santiago was offensive in character, the attitude of the United States defensive; that is, he was trying to effect something which the American Navy was set to prevent. There being three principal Spanish ports, Havana, Cienfuegos, and Santiago, we could not be certain for which he would try, and should have been before two in such force that an attempt by him would have assured a battle. We were strong enough for such a disposition. The two ports thus to be barred were evidently Havana and Cienfuegos. The supposed necessity for defending our northern coast left Cienfuegos open. Had Cervera made for it, he would have reached it before the Flying Squadron did. The need for keeping the Flying Squadron in Hampton Roads was imaginary, but it none the less illustrates the effect of inadequate coast defenses upon the military plan of the nation.
The author whom I quote (Corbett, “Seven Years’ War,” Vol. I, p. 92), who himself quotes from one of the first of authorities, Clausewitz, has therefore immediately to qualify his maxim, thus:
“When we say that defense is a stronger form of war, that is, that it requires a smaller force, if soundly designed, we are speaking, of course, only of one certain line of operations. If we do not know the general line of operation on which the enemy intends to attack, and so cannot mass our force upon it, then defense is weak, because we are compelled to distribute our force so as to be strong enough to stop the enemy on any line of operations he may adopt.”
Manifestly, however, a force capable of being strong enough on several lines of operation to stop an enemy possesses a superiority that should take the offensive. In the instance just cited, of Cervera’s approach, the American true policy of concentration would have had to yield to distribution, between Cienfuegos and Havana. Instead of a decisive superiority on one position, there would have been a bare equality upon two. Granting an enemy of equal skill and training, the result might have been one way or the other; and the only compensation would have been that the enemy would have been so badly handled that, to use Nelson’s phrase, he would give no more trouble that season, and the other American division would have controlled the seas, as Togo did after August 10, 1904. From the purely professional point of view it is greatly to be regretted that the Spaniards and Russians showed such poor professional aptitude.
The radical disadvantage of the defensive is evident. It not only is the enforced attitude of a weaker party, but it labors under the further onerous uncertainty where the offensive may strike, when there is more than one line of operation open to him, as there usually is. This tends to entail dissemination of force. The advantages of the defensive have been sufficiently indicated; they are essentially those of deliberate preparation, shown in precautions of various kinds. In assuming the defensive you take for granted the impossibility of your own permanent advance and the ability of the enemy to present himself before your front in superior numbers; unless you can harass him on the way and cause loss enough to diminish the inequality. Unless such disparity exists, you should be on the offensive. On the other hand, in the defensive it has to be taken for granted that you have on your side a respectable though inferior battle fleet, and a sea frontier possessing a certain number of ports which cannot be reduced without regular operations, in which the armed shipping can be got ready for battle, and to which, as to a base, they can retire for refit. Without these two elements there can be no serious defense.