ther the German or
Japanese forces by the wearing of buttons, the waving of small flags,
the fireworks, or the songs. They forgot that, under the conditions of
warfare a century of science had brought about, the non-military section
of the population could do no serious damage in any form to their
enemies, and that there was no reason, therefore, why they should not do
as they did. The balance of military efficiency was shifting back from
the many to the few, from the common to the specialised.

The days when the emotional infantryman decided battles had passed by
for ever. War had become a matter of apparatus of special training
and skill of the most intricate kind. It had become undemocratic. And
whatever the value of the popular excitement, there can be no denying
that the small regular establishment of the United States Government,
confronted by this totally unexpected emergency of an armed invasion
from Europe, acted with vigour, science, and imagination. They were
taken by surprise so far as the diplomatic situation was concerned,
and their equipment for building either navigables or aeroplanes was
contemptible in comparison with the huge German parks. Still they set to
work at once to prove to the world that the spirit that had created the
Monitor and the Southern submarines of 1864 was not dead. The chief of
the aeronautic establishment near West Point was Cabot Sinclair, and
he allowed himself but one single moment of the posturing that was so
universal in that democratic time. "We have chosen our epitaphs,"
he said to a reporter, "and we are going to have, 'They did all they
could.' Now run away!"

The curious thing is that they did all do all they could; there is no
exception known. Their only defect indeed was a defect of style. One of
the most striking facts historically about this war, and the one that
makes the complete separation that had arisen between the methods
of warfare and the necessity of democratic support, is the effectual
secrecy of the Washington authorities about their airships. They did
not bother to confide a single fact of their preparations to the public.
They did not even condescend to talk to Congress. They burked and
suppressed every inquiry. The war was fought by the President and the
Secretaries of State in an entirely autocratic manner. Such publicity as
they sought was merely to anticipate and prevent inconvenient agitation
to defend particular points. They realised that the chie