The Unpopular History of the United States by Uncle Sam Himself/Chapter 10

by Harris Dickson

X

THE LITTLE WE LEARNED AND THE MUCH WE DIDN’T

My son, we ought to have learned something from all this tragedy of errors. We didn’t. Folks just said, “We licked the entire British Empire,” and let it go at that. The real facts never leaked into their noggins, that the Revolution had been prolonged to eight disastrous years, when by the intelligent and compact use of our resources, it might have been ended by a single campaign. Of course a few men—mighty scarce and nobody listened—a few men sat down and figured out the reasons. Of course the Continental Congress was not to blame for the errors and left-handed inefficiencies of our military establishment. As I told you before, the Continental Congress had no power to raise a dollar or to enlist a man. It was nothing but a sterilized debating society, with power to say “Whereas” and “Resolved” and “Will you please” to the sovereign states. But the Federal Constitution, adopted in March, 1789, gave to the Congress of the young republic a giant’s authority to raise and support armies, to provide and maintain a navy, to levy taxes; so your Uncle Samuel is now clothed with every war power that the most despotic emperor could ask. Whatever now goes wrong with our scheme of national defense is directly chargeable to the United States Congress—and to your Uncle Samuel. But, my son, remember this and never forget, that neither Congress nor Uncle Sam can turn a wheel unless we are backed up by public sentiment. It’s the public sentiment of the country which makes Congress act. That’s why I am so anxious to have all the country folks and all the city folks know exactly where we stand. There’s no forty-seven different ways about what we’ve got to do. Do you suppose I’m talking to you just to hear my tongue rattle? No, siree. I’m busier than a bumblebee in a bucket of tar, but can’t accomplish a thing unless the people get busy, too. Our folks have got plenty of sense if we can just make them dive down in their think-tanks and use it.

It’s as plain as the nose on your face what we should have learned from the Revolution:

First: That nearly all the dangers that threatened the cause of independence may be traced to the total inexperience of our statesmen in regard to military affairs, which led to vital mistakes in army legislation.

Second: That, for waging war, a Confederation is the weakest of all governments.

Third: That neither voluntary enlistments based on patriotism, nor a bounty, can be relied upon to supply men for a prolonged war.

Fourth: That the draft, selective or not selective, with voluntary enlistments and bounties, is the only sure reliance of the government in time of war.

Fifth: That short enlistments are destructive of discipline, tend to disgust men with the service, and force the government to resort to either a bounty or the draft.

Sixth: That when a nation attempts to combat disciplined troops with raw levies, it must maintain an army of at least twice the size of the enemy, and even then have no guarantee of success.

These facts are the A. B. C. of military horse sense—and likewise the X. Y. Z.

The Continental government acted without foresight in creating a system of volunteer militia, and the new Federal government displayed no hindsight by continuing it. Looking backward, and with complete power to remedy evils, it disbanded our regular army—except 80 men—and raised 700 men to serve for one year. Revolutionary failures had taught nothing to the Congress which refused to be weaned away from its militia delusion.

By this time, my son, you must have grown tired of hearing about our militia fading away into thin mists when confronted by the rock-like ranks of regular troops. But doesn’t it give you a pain to know that they did precisely the same thing when Lo, the poor Indian, let loose a war whoop? Our first military expedition after the Revolution was led by General Joseph Harmar against the Miami Indians—320 regulars and 1,133 militia. Sixty regulars and 330 militia attacked the Indian village, losing 183 killed and 31 wounded. The humiliating details were developed at the coroner’s inquest—otherwise called Congressional investigation. Congress had a way of probing calamities after their occurrence, instead of preventing them in advance. Naturally they probed General Harmar’s conduct, and judicially determined that “amongst the militia were a great many hardly able to bear arms, such as old, infirm men, and young boys; they were not such as might be expected from a frontier; viz., strong, active woodsmen well accustomed to arms, eager and alert to avenge injuries done.” Also, many of the militia were substitutes.

Congress utterly failed to detect the milk in the cocoanut, that even if the men had been “active woodsmen well accustomed to arms,” without discipline they might be worthless as soldiers. A few months later 4,000 of such woodsmen actually ran away from a prairie fire.