A brief cloud passed over Roosevelt ’s face. He had wanted to hear a different report. “You know, the German press is having a field day with the empty camps. They are saying we cannot get enough recruits because no one wants to fight their invincible army. I hope you can do something to change that perception, and soon.”
“Well, sir, it is not an entirely false perception. A number of states have indeed declined to send their guard and militia. They say they are required to defend their home shores and cities. Georgia, for instance, has declined to release its militia for our use. Ironically, they did the same thing in the Civil War, refusing to help the Confederacy despite Jeff Davis’s pleas.”
Roosevelt nodded. The problem of who controlled the state units had arisen during the Spanish-American War as well. It represented another item that needed to be corrected. Presidents should be able to control state militias during a time of national emergency. “I’m sure it’s only a coincidence that Governor Candler is a Democrat,” Roosevelt said drily.
“I also presume you are aware that recruiting in the war zone has dropped dramatically,” continued Wood. “Although we are building a camp outside Boston in hopes that enlistments will pick up, we are getting virtually no volunteers from that area. One can understand,” he added, “that the heavy casualties taken already have dampened local ardor. Although, to be fair, sir, we have many thousands of local residents under arms at this time.”
“Humph,” sniffed the president. “Well, then, what’s the good news from the navy, Captain Mahan?”
Alfred Thayer Mahan was a small man with a trim white beard. Basically an academic with little command experience, he seemed uncomfortable in this setting. “I can only say, sir, that events are progressing largely as we expected. Admiral Dewey continues to train the main battle fleet while Admiral Evans is working his cruisers off England and Spain. You know we have received initial reports of successes, but the impact is not yet what we wish. Admiral Remey has his smaller ships operating off our East Coast, and he has sunk some transports and taken some prizes.”
“Excellent. Anything we can use?”
Mahan demurred. “Nothing significant, I’m afraid. The really important cargoes are sent by armed convoy. The prizes we’ve taken consist mainly of foodstuffs and other basic supplies. Sometimes the ships are taken because they, not the cargoes, can be useful. To add to what General Wood has said about wireless, I should inform you that we have sets installed on many of our more important ships and are using them for ship-to-ship communications. How it will work in battle remains to be seen, but it does appear to be effective. We are also communicating with our ships from Canada by wireless.” He looked at Roosevelt. Once again the man appeared to be entranced by the development of technology. “The British have built huge antennae in both England and Canada that we are using to broadcast information to our ships. Although the ships cannot send messages to us, they can receive using their masts as antennae. In order to make certain a message is not missed, the ships have at least two sets, and they must be manned around the clock. Regarding the limitations of antennae, someone had the brilliant idea of using the balloons and airships as antennae to broadcast signals, and it appears to work.”
Roosevelt grinned, pleased. “Amazing! I had no idea anything like that was afoot.”
“Sir, the British have been trying to develop such capabilities for some time. A test was scheduled for later this year. We simply urged them to accelerate the process, and it has succeeded.”
“Excellent.”
“I should also add on behalf of Admiral Dewey that we have been sending the big guns that General Longstreet requested.”
Roosevelt turned to Longstreet. “What are you doing with them, General?”
Schofield responded for Longstreet. “Sir, a number of them have been sent to reinforce coastal defenses at key points such as Boston, Norfolk, and Charleston. No German naval attacks are anticipated, but it is certainly good for civilian morale. Others are dug in along the Housatonic defense line as an unpleasant surprise for the Germans should they come by. We solved the problem of carriages, temporarily at least, through the use of heavy wooden sledges that look like they were last considered modern during the Middle Ages and are about as mobile as a dead elephant.” A grin split Schofield’s round face. “Like my good friend General Longstreet, they are old and ugly but they work.”
Longstreet laughed at the jibe and Roosevelt watched in delight. How wonderful, he thought. Two of the keenest surviving minds from a war in which they fought against each other were now harnessed in tandem against a common enemy. Better, cooperation between the army and the navy was a reality.
As the meeting broke up, Longstreet glanced quickly at Admiral Mahan, who nodded briefly. It was enough. They both understood the necessity of not telling the president everything. His outgoing and ebullient personality sometimes led him to blurt out things that were better kept secret. That would not do, thought Longstreet; the war was difficult enough without telling everything to the president and seeing it printed the next day in the papers.
Ahead of him Longstreet saw the short, round form of General Schofield, another old warhorse recalled from retirement. After the Civil War, Schofield had served as secretary of war and then until 1895 as the army’s commanding general. He was considered to be an outstanding administrator, and Longstreet was pleased to have his support. Longstreet was also aware that, immediately after the Civil War, Schofield had been sent on a secret mission to France and the court of Napoleon III. There, he had informed the emperor in no uncertain terms that the French army in Mexico would have to leave or it would be kicked out by the Union army. Napoleon had backed down and abandoned his Mexican venture, not wanting to face Phil Sheridan and the force arrayed on the Rio Grande. Yes, Schofield’s pudgy, soft-looking facade hid a measure of steel. Longstreet decided he would be forgiving about the reference to his being ugly. Schofield would pay, of course, and a dinner at the Willard seemed an appropriate price. Who the hell said the Civil War was over? Longstreet hurried his pace to gain on Schofield.
“Count von Holstein, I am honored to make your acquaintance.”
Holstein nodded and tried to measure the man before him. Middle-aged, stocky, with dark, thinning hair, he gave off an aura of confidence and middle-class wealth.
“Herr Becker, how kind of you to come.” He gestured Becker to a chair and watched the man place himself with surprising confidence and calmness. Becker was a merchant, the type of man who would not normally meet with the aristocratic Holstein, especially not in the latter’s private office. But times were not normal, and Becker was a member of the Reichstag, an elected delegate in what was Imperial Germany’s highly tentative step toward democracy. Becker had always been a supporter of the kaiser’s policies, but he had begun to speak out against the war. More to the point, Becker was a leader who was listened to by many other moderates. It was important to Holstein that he find out more about both the man and his motives.
“May I get you anything? Tea?” asked Holstein. Becker declined and Holstein saw a line of sweat on the man’s forehead. Perhaps he was a little nervous after all.
“I’m afraid I must begin with a tired old phrase and ask if you are wondering why I invited you here today.”
Becker managed to summon a small, tight smile. “It had crossed my mind, Count.”
“You are a merchant, are you not?” It was almost a rhetorical question. Holstein was well aware that Becker was a merchant, a sausage manufacturer from a small town north of Munich, in Bavaria. “And most important, you represent your lovely home area in the Reichstag.”