Monday, February 15, 2010

February 15, 1898

"Remember the Maine!": Or Extra, Extra, Read All About It.


The new week begins at Lies Agreed Upon with a pivotal day in the United States' growth as a superpower, and one of the most controversial events in modern military history. Since 1823, the Monroe Doctrine served as a warning to Europe that New World affairs would be handled in-hemisphere, protected and administered by the upstart Americans. By the turn of the 20th Century, the eyes of American industry had turned to interests in the Caribbean Sea, an area many hoped would soon be free of European competitors.

A little after 9:30 pm on a warm February evening in 1898, Captain Charles Dwight Sigsbee was likely turning in for the night in the harbor of Havana, Cuba. His command, the USS Maine, had been dispatched from Florida by President William McKinley to protect American possessions on the island. Cubans were in the midst of a revolt against colonial Spanish Rule, and the response from Spain, which had brutalized the local people, was beginning to affect American commerce.

The USS Maine entering Havana Harbor on January 25, 1898.

Cuba in particular was seen as the jewel in the crown of Latin America. With their western frontier rapidly vanishing, many in the US had designs on an overseas empire and felt the island could provide Americans with more territory. Situated just 90 miles south of Florida, the population of Cuba had been rising against its Spanish rulers since the 1860's. Northeastern newspaper publishers, such as Joseph Pulitzer and William Randolph Hearst, began vilifying Spain and lobbying for American intervention in Cuba.

Since January, Sigsbee had remained anchored in Havana, waiting for further instructions or events to dictate his next move. The Maine had been sent despite the warnings of Fitzhugh Lee, American Consul-General in Havana and nephew of Robert E. Lee, that its presence was not only unnecessary, but also unwelcome. For three weeks, American sailors sat homesick and bored on her decks, wondering what would happen next. That night, as Sigsbee readied for bed, the wondering ended.

At about 9:40pm on February 15, 1898, the dark quiet of the Havana night was shattered by a thundering explosion. The Maine, anchored at her moorings, erupted in a blast that sent sailors and steel alike hurtling into the harbor. Later investigations would reveal that over five tons of gunpowder in the ship's magazine had detonated, ripping apart the bow. In his quarters at the aft end of the ship, Sigsbee was safe from the inferno, but most of his men were not. Of the 374 officers and men aboard that night, only 89 survived.

What is left of the Maine, sitting on the bottom of Havana Harbor.

Immediately, at the behest of newspaper headlines, Americans began clamoring for war. To many, there was little doubt as to who was responsible for the deaths of the ship and her crew. A rallying cry arose, exhorting the populace to "Remember the Maine! To Hell with Spain!" Although the sinking of the Maine was not listed as a cause of war, the Spanish-American War began just a few months later.

The real reason for the explosion has never been confirmed. At the time, the blast was blamed on contact with a floating sea-mine laid by the Spanish. Several inquiries have been launched since the incident, each of which came up with separate conclusions. Modern computer imagery and simulations have credited the blast to smoldering coal deposits in the Maine's engine room, which ignited the ship's magazine nearby. While conspiracy theorists have enjoyed speculating that the US blew up its own ship to start the war, it is clear that the Spanish most likely had nothing to do with the explosion.

To us at Lies Agreed Upon, the sinking of the Maine marks a watershed moment in American history. Prior to the explosion, many Americans had advocated the build-up of a blue water navy, one that could secure possessions overseas, then serve as the lifeline to a new American Empire. Inspired by Admiral Alfred Thayer Mahan's book The Influence of Seapower on History, which credited the British Empire largely to the Royal Navy, men like Secretary of the Navy Theodore Roosevelt saw America's future on the waves. When the war ended the US secured holdings in Cuba, Puerto Rico and the Philippines, beginning its rise to world superpower status.





The front page of William Randolph Hearst's New York Journal blamed the sinking of the Maine on "Spanish Treachery."





Also, the influence of the media in going to war is not to be understated. The oft-cited yellow journalism of publishers like Pulitzer and Hearst trumped up Spanish offenses and created slights where, perhaps, there were none. Hearst offered a $50,000 reward for information on the sinking in his paper the New York Journal. At the time, the public opinion of average Americans was influenced almost solely by the newspapers, the dominant form of media at the turn of century. Now, we see how the media can affect public opinion on the conduct of a war in our living rooms almost everyday. While it may not be the first time the press played a big part in an America at war, it is surely one of the most notorious.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Shameless Napoleon Quote of the Week

February 14-20, 2010

[When he died], Bonaparte offered up to God the mightiest breath of life that ever animated human clay.
Francois Rene de Chateaubriand

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Dead General Quote of the Week

Lone Star.

The American Civil War was fought at a crossroads in time, where old-world tactics were meeting deadly modern technology. Climactic moments in huge engagements were often decided by men lining up across from each other and shooting it out. These tactics were accompanied by romantic illusions of duty, glory and personal honor. Showing your back in a fight, some considered, was a fate worse than death. After reviewing a parade of John B. Hood's Texas Brigade, a British colonel noticed that almost all of the men had worn through the seats of their pants. General Robert E. Lee told him not to worry:

Never mind their raggedness, Colonel. The enemy never sees the back of my Texans.


Friday, February 12, 2010

February 12, 1946

The U-Boat Graveyard: Or Why Germany Has To Stay in the Shallow End.

Well, we're almost afraid to show our faces around these parts lately, given this blog's laughable rate of production, but all the same we're proud to say that Lies Agreed Upon is back with a bang here in the middle of February. Call it a Valentine's Day gift to our wonderful readers, whose French sensibilities are soothed by the romantic. All the same, we appreciate your patience during this apparent "work stoppage."

We dive right back into the water today, and turn back the clock to a war ravaged Europe less than a year after Adolf Hitler's Third Reich had collapsed into rubble. One of the many steps it would take to rebuild the continent was getting rid of the countless pieces of war that Germany suddenly no longer needed. Tanks, vehicles, guns, planes (if there were any left), small arms; all the surrendered working parts of a war machine that had been dismantled. Included in the tally were over 154 vessels of the Kriegsmarine's prized U-Boat fleet.





Officers salute from the tower as U-107 sets out from Lorient, France, 1942.










U-Boats or Unterseeboote, were the scourge of the blue water at one point in the war, and for that matter, played the same role a generation before. Pan-European conflicts tend to make land powers like Germany susceptible to blockade, particularly when the British are fighting on the other side. Under both Hitler and Kaiser Wilhelm II, the Germans turned to unrestricted submarine warfare to break the blockade and cut England's lifeline to the outside world.

We enjoy the debate on the effectiveness of this tactic for two reasons, the first of which is the reaction of the United States. In both wars, U-Boats succeeded in sinking millions of tonnage and likely cost billions of dollars in losses, but in both conflicts they caused Germany to incur the wrath of a growing superpower. In 1917, knowing full-well what the response would be, the Germans unleashed their unrestricted subs on American ships and brought the U.S. into the war. Prior to Pearl Harbor, German wolf packs, or groups of subs, hunted in waters as far West as the Gulf of Mexico. This succeeded only in driving the U.S. to aid the Allies to the point of undermining her status as a neutral.

The sinking of the RMS Lusitania in 1915 caused outrage in the United States, and the Germans halted their unrestricted submarine warfare. When it resumed in 1917, it drove the US to enter the war.

To us, the cost of bringing an immensely powerful enemy into the fray is not covered by the success the subs did have. But what really pique's our interest about the U-Boat is the fact that Germany had to turn to them at all. Looking back, it was the build up of the Imperial German surface fleet that first alarmed Europe's established powers. At the turn of the 20th Century, the Kaiser's desire to launch a fleet to rival England's posed a challenge to the long recognized ruler of the waves. Yet when hostilities broke out, Germany was out of her league at sea and her new ships spent most of the war bottled up in port. As it happened, the oceans would be her downfall.

It was the oceans that brought the supplies an exhausted Britain needed to survive until 1918; that brought millions of fresh American troops when the First World War was still very much in doubt; that saved England from invasion after Dunkirk; that kept supplies from Rommel in North Africa; that carried thousands of tanks and planes to the Soviet Union on the frigid "Murmansk Run"; and it was from over the oceans that wave after wave of Allied troops came to places like Casablanca, Salerno, and Normandy.

Germany's designs on a surface fleet made her persona non grata at the European power table, but she never built an armada even close to what was feared. Because of this, she was forced to dive below the surface in two World Wars, thus creating more enemies than she could handle. On February 12, 1946, a little over nine months after the U-Boat fleet was surrendered, over 120 German submarines were scuttled in Operation Deadlight; blown up and sunk intentionally off the coast of Northern Ireland.




52 U-Boats are prepared for scuttling as part of Operation Deadlight, February 1946.









Germany had long desired a world renowned fleet, and the one scuttled in Deadlight was infamous indeed. But designs on a navy caused an exhaustive world war and planted the seeds for the vengeance-fueled second. The fleet they got might not have been exactly the one the Germans pictured, but it brought on a host of enemies just the same. When the U-Boats were finally scuttled it was the end of a sad chapter in naval history, and closed the book on Germany as a world naval power.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Shameless Napoleon Quote of the Week

January 24-30, 2010

Wherever wood can swim, then I am sure to find this flag of England.



Napoleon Bonaparte

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Dead General Quote of the Week

A Worthy Adversary.

This Dead General Quote of the Week comes from the commander of the Deutsches Afrika Korps, Field Marshall Erwin Rommel. Rommel's panzers fought a see-saw battle back and forth across the Libyan desert against General Bernard Montgomery's British 8th Army for almost two whole years. Made up mostly of Commonwealth troops, men from all over the British Empire became the Desert Rats needed to flush out the Desert Fox. After one battle, Rommel himself commented on the tenacity of these men gathered from around the globe:


Give me two Australian Divisions and I will conquer the world.




Rommel in his Afrika Korps gear. Note his trademark: captured British desert goggles, donned solely for PR purposes.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Dead General Quote of the Week

Good Advice.

Just a quick Dead General Quote of the Week to assure all our readers out there that we are indeed still in production. Here is one of our favorites from Frederick II, King of Prussia, better known today as Frederick the Great. This is known to be one of George S. Patton's favorite quotes. Stay tuned for more posts.

L'audace. L'audace. L'audace. Tujuors de l'audace.


Audacity. Audacity. Audacity. Always Audacity.