The naval officer is peculiarly a citizen of the nation. He wears a uniform and holds a commission which makes him a representative of the American people at large, both at home and abroad. He visits practically all parts of his own country as well as foreign ones and meets citizens of all classes and occupations. His brother officers and the men under his charge are from the nation at large. He gradually loses his local character and affiliations and constantly becomes better acquainted with other people of the nation and other sections of the country. He leaves provincialism and becomes cosmopolitan. The inevitable disadvantage resulting is that, though he holds the respect of the nation at large, he loses that sympathy and understanding of particular communities that can only be fostered by long and intimate relations, both business and social. Failure to attempt to maintain this personal contact in some measure with the native heath— as long as no other one is adopted—is an evidence of poor citizenship on his part. The general lack of knowledge of naval affairs and the failure of the public “back home” to realize the need for, and the needs of, the Navy, are the faidt of the officers.
IT IS an interesting thought to reflect on the proportion of the country, both as to population and as to geographical sections, that has the opportunity to become acquainted with its Navy at first hand. Take a map of the United States and count the states in the coastal fringes. Of the twenty- one, only twelve have any considerable connection with the Fleet or naval activities. Only ten have ports that are even visited by major units of the Fleet. Thirty-eight states, or roughly eighty per cent, do not even get a glimpse of it or any part of it. Less than twenty ports are, or can safely be, visited by the Fleet itself as a unit, or by major subdivisions.
Consider the population that sees the seagoing Navy at first hand. The centers of population, business production and voting are inland and lie somewhere within that eighty per cent that never sees its floating defenses. And it is an ironical fact that, in the main, it is from these very centers that comes, if not antagonism, at least apathy to adequate national defense on the sea. Note that the other industrial depart ments of the federal government—Commerce, Postal, Interior, Agriculture, Treasury, even the Army—all have agencies which are in almost daily contact with the citizens of that same eighty per cent as well as the other twenty.
“Wonderful! We should have a fleet of them,” says the citizen, as the giant dirigible floats majestically over his own home in Jefferson County. “Valuably practical, a real national asset,” says the inland shipper when he gets a report that after a long run of bad weather, the ship that brought his foreign goods into the country was piloted into port by the Navy radio compass stations. “Splendid idea, brings a tremendous amount of additional business; we should have one in our town,” says the suburbanite who visits a training camp. Think of the vast number—yes, millions—who may, except during a war period, go almost a lifetime and not come even that close to their Navy. They may see a small part of it in a flash on the movie screen, or they may read a squib in the daily paper—“Navy flier sets new speed record”—“American bluejackets and marines landed in Nicaragua”— “Giant battleship goes safely through the Panama Canal”—“American destroyer convoys merchant ships safely up Chinese river.” The sum and substance that he gleans is that the Navy is practically altogether concerned with activities entirely detached from his own personal interests— almost foreign. A dim and distant national symbol, this Navy, to a great many inlanders! Small wonder that it is difficult to arouse community or individual sentiment to an active, supporting interest in the Navy as a whole. If he could see the Battle Fleet steam majestically out to sea, see a scout cruiser or destroyer making a full speed run, dive in a submarine, ride in a seaplane, or go on board the West Virginia, he would probably be converted, just as we have seen hundreds of others converted. But he can’t.
We, of the Navy, sometimes criticize quite bitterly those inland communities that oppose an extensive naval policy. But they have their own troubles making their immediate circles of activities complete. We cannot expect the people back home to be acquainted with our traditions, take pride in our achievements, understand our scientific advances, and be willing to vote to sustain a respectably sized fleet if they do not have chances to see it or read about it often at first hand. Too often we seem to think that simply because Congressman Jones appointed us to the Naval Academy, he is offside if he votes down the appropriation. He has the public opinion at home to satisfy.
The first individuals to convince the people effectively that insurance was good business were the insurance agents. The first to convince them of the necessity for good roads were the automobile agencies. Either costs the taxpayer many times more than he pays to support his Navy, but he sees and enjoys the advantages of the other two almost daily, and there is, moreover, sufficient interest taken by those agencies to see that he is kept informed of developments.
Is it unethical for the Navy to convince the individual that the money spent on his national insurance is relatively a small part of the total outlay of the federal government, that it costs him personally practically nothing, that the money spent is all returned to the people through the Navy’s tremendously varied business activities and reacts favorably on general conditions just as would the operations of any such enormous industrial concern? Would it be unethical to attempt to convince him that this expenditure is directly reflected in progress in steam, electrical, diesel, radio and aviation engineering, the net result of which is a busier, and therefore wealthier, nation, and a higher standard of living? Why would it be unethical for officers of the Navy to show that the service is a great national school that gathers youths without ready advantages from all communities, and employs, trains and educates them, returning them to civil life as well-disciplined citizens and productive workers? Why is it beneath our professional dignity to speak for ourselves at least to the point of justifying our labors and encouraging a sympathetic interest, if not hearty support ? It is not meant that we should sound off with ruffles and flourishes, but the facts should be placed conveniently available for every citizen; he should be given some means of regular contact and the chances are he will use it with increasing interest and intelligence.
At present the recruiting officers, Navy Day and the press constitute the only extensive, regular means of dissemination of correct information on naval activities. The first are concerned mainly with obtaining their enlistment quotas and are probably, as a rule, not effective because of a natural hesitancy to broadcast. The second is only at best an annual spasm, effective once a year in ports where Navy ships can be boarded or prominent officers can speak and properly present the facts; its effect is largely lost in inland communities where attention is more probably directed to the cost of maintaining the naval establishment than to the effectiveness of that maintenance by the service. The third is often dependent upon the mere whim or good will of an editor or a reporter, and what is worthy is only too often misrepresented or is made ridiculous by mistaken description or narration. The service weeklies are excellent but their circulation is lamentably small. The only other source of information is the personal letters of officers and men in the service. We all know how absolutely neglected is this latter phase.
The United States Naval Institute Proceedings constitute the only concise, authentic, running account of current naval history, scientific naval progress and professional opinion by naval officers. It is the correct medium to place the Navy directly in front of those people “back home” who seldom hear of it and know not what we have done, are doing, and are thinking of doing. It is particularly appropriate because it is, so to speak, a balanced ration, with articles of historical, biographical, and scientific interest, anecdotes of the sea, world politics and international crises. It gives the naval officers’ points of view on proposed legislation, contains a complete resume of naval, technical, and marine engineering progress throughout the world, and catalogues and reviews the latest books covering a wide field of general interest. Truly an unusual man who would not be interested by some phase of its contents each month. And finally, it is written and published almost entirely by officers of the Navy and constitutes an excellent monthly report of the Navy to its employer, the people.
But the People do not receive it. The book is prepared by the Navy and sold largely right back to the Navy. It is, we might say, an ingrowing development, a sort of process of inbreeding.
True, the roll of the Institute shows a reasonable number of civilians. But they are voluntary subscribers, and they are such because they are already interested in the Navy. What is desired is to put the facts, figures and opinions before those who might go for years and not have a passing thought on our activities except when they read of a wreck, an Army-Navy game or an aviation squabble. All of which are of very doubtful value in educating the public to the true significance of the naval service.
The problem is, how to put this interesting, conservative, authentic, monthly report before the people—how to get copies into the hands of at least a few of the millions of readers in public libraries, universities, high schools and clubs. The Institute cannot afford to supply any considerable number of free copies because it is published for the very smallest reasonable profit consistent with its natural expansion. The average civilian is already saddled with a long list of magazines and would be hard to convert to a subscriber for still another. Moreover, perhaps the dignity of the Institute properly dictates against a real campaign for heavy civilian membership. The Navy Department will not, and could not, consent to subscribe and distribute copies. Cries of “Propaganda!” would break every window in both houses of Congress! But for an individual to send a gift subscription to the home town club, library, university or high school, could only be classed as the act of a thoughtful citizen, club member or alumnus—which is exactly what it would be.
There is the plan. Suppose each officer, or at least each present member of the Institute, were to write a personal letter to the secretary of his home club, dean of the university, principal of the high school, or librarian of one of the libraries, telling him simply that, having left the community to enter the naval service, and wishing to link up his professional activities with those of the citizens at home, and realizing that a truly loyal citizen cannot help but show an interest in his Navy if given the opportunity, he is, therefore, sending the Proceedings of tiie Naval Institute to them for one year. A brief word on the fact that it represents the best written thought and record of naval progress, and may prove useful to those who know very little about the Navy, would not be out of place and would likely be very much appreciated in itself.
The availability of the information contained in the Proceedings would prove a boon to those having relatives or friends in the service, a business asset to those interested in any one of the great number of naval business activities, and a much sought source of fact by students and teachers. The favorable reaction on the very classes of people whom it is our duty, as well as interest, to acquaint with the traditions, achievements and ideals of the Navy, can hardly be estimated.
The cost is small, the procedure simple, and the personal and professional pride of the donor cannot but be enlarged thereby. The ever-widening gulf of lack of understanding that comes from long absences from those we left behind us, is often a source of keen regret, as well as injured pride, when we return home and find that our profession is so little understood or sympathized with. Re-establishing contact in a friendly and conservative way will be to the credit of the officers as citizens of the nation and of the community.