To a certain extent, one is not prepared to say how far, the military and
social crises are interdependent. And undoubtedly the military problem
rests on the suppression of the submarine. If Germany continues to
destroy shipping on the seas, if we are not able to supply our new armies
and the Allied nations with food and other things, the increasing social
ferment will paralyze the military operations of the Entente. The result
of a German victory under such circumstances is impossible to predict;
but the chances are certainly not worth running. In a, sense, therefore,
in a great sense, the situation is "up" to us in more ways than one, not
only to supply wise democratic leadership but to contribute material aid
and brains in suppressing the submarine, and to build ships enough to
keep Britain, France, and Italy from starving. We are looked upon by all
the Allies, and I believe justly, as being a disinterested nation, free
from the age-long jealousies of Europe. And we can do much in bringing
together and making more purposeful the various elements represented by
the nations to whose aid we have come.

I had not intended in these early papers to comment, but to confine
myself to such of my experiences abroad as might prove interesting and
somewhat illuminating. So much I cannot refrain from saying.

It is a pleasure to praise where praise is due, and too much cannot be
said of the personnel of our naval service--something of which I can
speak from intimate personal experience. In these days, in that part of
London near the Admiralty, you may chance to run across a tall, erect,
and broad-shouldered man in blue uniform with three stars on his collar,
striding rapidly along the sidewalk, and sometimes, in his haste, cutting
across a street. People smile at him--costermongers, clerks, and
shoppers--and whisper among themselves, "There goes the American
admiral!" and he invariably smiles back at them, especially at the